Shadowlands
by datbenik513
Summary: A year went by after the events of Another Time, Another Chance. Harry's getting used to his new life. What will this life bring along?
1. Chapter 1

It's peaceful and quiet on the streets of Sydney after midnight. Tomorrow is another working day, so, apart from an occasional drunk, a nurse who has just finished her shift at the hospital and a middle-aged pair walking their two Jack Russell terriers, there's not a living soul to be seen. _Living soul._ I have to suppress a bitter laugh. I slow down my pace when I reach the window of a huge home electronics shop and I admire the giant plasma screen showing a documentary on the life of insects. The Black Widow on the screen is so real, so palpable that I can't help but shiver as I recall our encounter with Aragog's descendants in the Forbidden Forest, back in our second year; it seems an eternity ago..

_Ron, well, he's still afraid of spiders. A week ago I saw him; he was sleeping, but he was tossing around in his bed all the time, mumbling the words "Aragog…please Harry, make him go away!" Then he woke in cold sweat, and sat in his bed with empty, glassy eyes not knowing where he was at all. Poor Luna, it took her the best part of an hour to calm him as she drew his head on her shoulder, caressing his fiery red hair, whispering soothing words into his ears. Then, he felt somewhat more comfortable and went back to sleep. _

"_He's had a bad Nargles attack," smiled Luna at me, as if apologizing for him, "please Harry, go away now. You can come back any time you want, but he needs to sleep. Little Molly is awake; I have to change and feed her. I'm so sorry…" _

"_Don't be, Luna. I'm going already. See you around and tell Ron I'll drop by again when he feels up to it", I smiled, kissed Luna on the cheek and descended the stairs. I closed the entrance door behind me very carefully._

I emerge from my thoughts and dismiss the spider from my memories. Continuing my aimless stroll, I can feel a fresh breeze which brings the salty smell of sea into my nostrils. The wind caresses my face, whispers something into my ears, brushes my hair, then flies away, picking up a newspaper forgotten by someone on a window sill, then throwing it away without reading as if even Nature was disgusted with all evil happening to the world these days.

My legs take control of me and they move towards the junction to Elizabethtown, a casual 20 minutes' walk. Soon, I stand in front of the Grangers' home; the home of so many beautiful memories, so many plans that would never come true.

I could very easily just float upstairs and enter the house through the balcony of our bedroom on the second floor, but I rather – merely to maintain the illusion of being a normal, living person – undo Hermione's wards on the main entrance door and enter the house, then raise the wards again. Although in this world I have no body, no weight, I tiptoe carefully upon the stairs, until I reach the bedroom door. I hear noises from inside, so this time I go through the wood of the door.

My family is very much awake. Hermione's sitting in the Victorian armchair they'd shipped over together with the other furniture from the Grangers' old home in Buckinghamshire. I watch as my beloved girl breast feeds our little daughter and I'm struck by the intimacy of this scene; the Madonna nursing the infant.

My Hermione looks tired; bags under her eyes, and she seems to have lost quite a few pounds. Poor soul, she's not getting enough sleep as she has to feed Lily every four hours. But, strangely, she seems content. Wearing a proud smile, she sings a lullaby in her sweet voice, and I feel tears in my eyes. I would do everything for a chance so that I could share these moments with her. I feel so guilty to have abandoned her just when she needed me most; when she was pregnant, in labour, in pain, while she was recovering at the hospital..

When she's done feeding, she lifts up the tiny, fragile creature; our little Lily, holds her against herself, with her head on her shoulder, gently patting her back. Suddenly, a healthy burp breaks the silence, then another, not less powerful one. Hermione smiles proudly. "That's my little girl!" she acknowledges proudly, as she caresses her back, plants gentle kisses on her head. Then, she says something, which catches me completely off-guard.

"I wish your Dad could be here, with us, Lily," she sighs in a suppressed, pained voice, and she breaks into silent sobs.

I turn away; I can't bear to see this painful scene. It's entirely my fault. I want to cry, "I'm here, with you, right here, right now!" But it would be in vain, she couldn't hear me, she couldn't see me anyway. She would not sense my presence. So, I just helplessly sit at the edge of her bed and watch her suffer.

Slowly, she composes herself, readjusts her nightgown and then very carefully places the sleeping Lily in our bed, not into her own one. She lies down and hugs the little girl protectively to her side. The last thing she says, before she falls asleep, twists a knife through my heart. "Good night, Harry, wherever you may be now."

I can't hold back my tears any longer. It's just good that this world can't hear my sobs as my shoulders shake and I cry my words of pain to Heaven. Suddenly, I feel two hands on my shoulders; a strong, male hand and a small, warm, soothing female one. I turn my head and look into the equally tear-stained eyes of my parents.

I try to smile, and gently point to the sleeping duo. "Mum, Dad, meet Hermione Granger and Lily Granger."

"Potter, Harry. They both bear your name," answers Mum simply. I must look like a complete idiot, because she takes pity on me and explains further. "When she was admitted to the hospital, she gave the name 'Hermione Potter' to the Healer at the reception. Her connection with you was recognized by the Ministry, as the two of you bonded that night, the night Lily was conceived exactly a year ago, so no further questions were asked. In Wizarding terms, you are married. As in 'husband and wife'. It naturally followed that when Lily was born, she'd get your name as well. My name. Merlin, I still can't get used to being a Granny! I'm still so young!"

"And, to be honest, still smoking hot," Dad adds, but Mum's blood boils immediately.

"James Bloody Potter! Stop talking like that this instant in front of our son!"

"For Merlin's sake, your son is a grown man and a father himself as well," laughs Dad, but raises his hands in surrender. I have to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. They hadn't changed even a slightest bit from what I've known about them from the stories and memories Remus had shared with me during his Hogwarts professorship, and later, during our Order activities. Aforementioned wolf chooses this very moment to emerge and gives me a healthy clap on my shoulder.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

"They both are, Remus," I admit, and I just hope my voice wouldn't give away my pain.

"Harry, don't feel ashamed for what you feel now. Nymphadora…"

"Shall I hex you into the next century, Remus, or will you finally learn my name? It's Tonks, T-O-N-K-S," she appears out of thin air, wearing green, shoulder-length hair and blue eyes for this occasion, bright blue eyes, sparkling with badly disguised fury.

"Tonks and I would still check on Teddy every night, just to see he's fine. We miss him, we do, and we will never be a part of his life, but we're still sure we'd done the right thing. We hope we hadn't died in vain and we'd helped make the world better," nods my former professor, casting an apologetic look on his wife, who relaxes now and gently caresses his worn face.

"Oh yes, Moony, you both had," Prongs hugs his old friend. "All right, Harry, we are off now. We leave you alone with them. The tea will be kept warm for you, just like the muffins. Good night."

"Good night, you lot. I'll be here just for a short while, and then catch up with you."

Nodding understandingly, they disappear, and I'm alone again with my family. No matter how ridiculous it might seem, I take off my shoes and lay down on the bed, on Lily's side. For a moment I think I can feel the warmth of her tiny body as I gently caress her hair and plant a kiss on her head. Then I rest my hand on Hermione's hand and the last words I utter before my heavy eyelids close down are: "I love you." Already half asleep, I can still clearly hear her voice: "I love you too, Harry."

In my existence it's hard to judge how much time's passed by; the clock on the wall shows shortly after 4 am, when a strange noise awakens me, the noise of something hard screeching on a hard surface, maybe glass or metal. I suddenly remember my school years; this same screeching sound of chalk writing on the chalkboard used to send chills down my spine.

Suddenly, a new sound is added to the scene; something distinctly resembling the howling of a wolf and the battle cry of an elephant. As their source draws nearer, I see three very strange creatures, and I'm paralyzed with fear. They have four legs, pretty much the legs of a wolf, only ending in huge, razor-sharp talons, making this eerie, screeching sound as they run. They have wolf-like bodies as well. Their heads remind me of that of an octopus, a fish and a fly at the same time and I turn away for a second, swallowing the bile, now forcing its way out.

Drawing a deep breath, I turn back to them; something urges me to get my wand ready. I trust my instincts – they've saved my life more then once before – and I draw my wand, in the same movement jump off the bed, placing myself between these horrible creatures and my family.

The first creature runs at me with a huge jump, knocks me over, landing on the bed on the spot I've just vacated. It draws its disgusting head towards Lily and looks like as if it's kissing her. Lily starts coughing and her face turns blue as if she can't breathe.. I jump on my feet and send a well-aimed curse at the creature, which falls off the bed and starts decomposing, turning into thick, blackish ooze. Suddenly two golden jets of light come seemingly from nowhere, hitting the two other creatures at the same time, which, similar to the first one, die instantaneously.

Then, I watch in awe as the familiar figure of Luna emerges from nowhere. Still out of breath, she comes up to me, tugging her wand behind her right ear.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I came as fast I could," she says apologetically, putting her hands around my neck and pulling me into a hug. "I was so afraid I'd be late, but I see you'd have managed the situation by yourself," she smiles at me, then checks on Hermione and Lily. She cups Lily's cheeks and kisses her on the forehead, emitting a golden glow. Lily's cough stops and her face regains her usual, healthy pink colour, then she falls deep asleep again.

"You have a wonderful girlfriend and a beautiful daughter, Harry," Luna observes, as she puts Hermione's hand protectively over Lily, whispering something into Hermione's ear. She smiles in her sleep and Luna nods understandingly

"Don't worry, dear, she'll be fine. They will be fine. They won't remember anything," she explains, trying to comfort me.

I'm still in shock, too many weird things had happened in the past few minutes. Seeing my disbelief, Luna laughs, taking my hand and pulling me to sit with her on the edge of the bed.

"Lily's dreaming of playing with a big, black, very friendly dog. Does it ring a bell?" she inquires with a playful smile on her face. For a moment, I must look like a complete idiot, but then, I understand. "Padfoot? Where's he now?" I ask, and she nods in acknowledgement. "He's on the Dreamscape right now, in her dreams. It's easy to go there, if you want to, I'll teach you." I just sit there, not knowing what to say, as I don't understand what it means, so she continues in her usual, dreamy voice.

"Nasty creatures, these Wrackspurts. They attack small children and come always in their dreams . They suck their life force out of them; feed on them just as like the Dementors feed on your pain, despair, bad memories. Did you know that they are responsible for all sudden infant deaths? Muggle doctors have been trying to identify the cause of SID for decades to no avail. Of course, no one has asked _me_…otherwise they could have save many tens of thousands of newborns," she explains, but she has to laugh at the mixture of shock and disbelief, which must be clearly visible on my face, as I still can't find my words to answer her.

"Harry, Harry, a big boy and yet, so naïve…" she shakes her head with a playful smile and gives a small peck on my face. Suddenly, I realize what's wrong with her, I just couldn't put it all together until now. I can feel her hand in my hand and I could feel her kiss! That's not good! Well, I have to admit, it DOES feel good, but the reason WHY I can feel her physical presence is not good. I'm so confused!

"Oh no, Luna, are you also…" I dare not ask it because I'm afraid to hear the answer. She merely laughs and her laughter soothes my troubled mind. "No, silly, I'm not dead. I am very much alive, only, unlike most living people, I can visit the Shadowlands, the world beyond the Veil. Not too often, mind you, and not for too long, otherwise I'd be stuck here forever. But tonight I had a bad dream about you; you were in pain, crying over your family, so I had to come. Took me quite a while to find you, though, but I'm glad I made it. I couldn't bear the thought if something had happened with your family and I couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt, yet again. I care too much about you. You know, you might be Hermione's soul mate, boyfriend, the father of her child, but…_Expecto patronum_!" she cries. A silver doe bursts from the tip of her wand, comes up to me and lays her head in my lap. I pet the beautiful head of the noble animal for a while, then, awestruck, I look at Luna through my tear-stained eyes. Now I understand ruddy well what it means.

"You know, Harry, precisely one year ago, I spoke with Mum," she starts in a trembling voice, not losing eye contact with me for even a second, our fingers still intertwined. "She was all in tears as she told me about your death. I cried days and nights in a row. I wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, only curl up on my bed watching your photo, taken in your fifth year. It took a lot of persuasion from Mum to make me change my mind and not to follow you into the Shadowlands. 'You have a choice, unlike me, Harry, his parents, Remus, and so many others,' she said. She was right. Dad needs me, Ron needs me, my friends need me and I need them all. I can always make that choice, should life become too unbearable, but not now, no matter how much I love you and how much I want to be with you."

"Now you're asking 'why did she never tell?' aren't you?" she whispers as she touches my face with feather-light fingers, and for some reason I don't want this touch to end. I pull her closer and we rest our foreheads against each other. "You knew I was the only living person that could see you, talk to you. We have been talking a lot and I've had the chance to tell you, if I wanted. There's a good reason behind. When someone dies and goes to the Shadowlands, his mind is already troubled enough to understand the reason behind this and all the possibilities this parallel existence can offer. I didn't want to confuse you more than you'd already been. It just wouldn't have been fair to you; you've been through too much already," she admits with tears in her dreamy blue eyes and our lips unite in a sweet kiss, for the very first time.

"Luna, dear Luna, thanks for loving me, for saving my little girl," I whisper when the kiss ends. "I'm sorry I'd never realized your feelings, I'm sorry I'd never answered them…" I add somewhat lamely, but Luna vehemently shakes her golden head, sending her hair flying into the air and puts her index finger against my lips.

"I need to go back now, no matter how I'd want to stay here, with you," she says, "I love Ron and Molly, they're everything to me and I know, I feel every moment of the day that Ron loves me. Still, deep within my heart, you're my only one. Please, come and see us, talk to us, just like you used to and I promise I will drop by every now and then, so that we could spend some quality time together, only the two of us." The last words she utters in a playful tone and winks at me, as she clicks with her fingers and dissolves in a faint bluish glow.

**********************************************

A week later I get up in the morning, shortly after seven, as I normally would. I summon my spectacles, although I don't need them; here, in the Shadowlands, I can see perfectly without them. A matter of habit, I guess. Here there are no illnesses, no curse of lycanthropy, only the regular, be it somewhat mundane, everyday's life. Still naked, I go to the bathroom and let the hot water run for a couple of minutes before I take a long, relaxing hot shower. Then I step up to the mirror, to examine my face and take a fresh shave. The mirror is covered with tiny droplets of water, condensing on its cold surface. I take a towel and want to wipe the mirror dry, when I see something strange. Letters begin to form on the mirror. I follow the letters as more and more of them appear; when I understand their meaning, I lean back against the wall and slide slowly to the floor, eyes wide, mouth open in astonishment.

"**There IS a way back from behind the Veil. L"**


	2. Chapter 2

I was sitting at my desk in my office, at the department of Magical Law Enforcement, chewing myself through some boring Auror reports on various minor incidents, then, with a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and watched the huge pile of papers in badly disguised disgust. I stood up and poured myself a cup of coffee, the Muggle way, as usual. While I was happy to apply a Preserving Charm on the coffee, just to keep it hot, the few seconds it took me to stand up, pour the coffee, apply some sugar and creamer, then sit back into my chair allowed me at least to have the illusion I was doing something useful. Nothing was happening and this boredom slowly killed me, if that in my current state – the state of being irreversibly dead – was at all possible.

When Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, came to see me, and offered my current position, at first I was very skeptical. Firstly, I still hadn't forgotten the atmosphere of my previous talks with him. Secondly, why would I want to be a Chief Auror here, in the Shadowlands? To my greatest surprise, Scrimgeour talked very politely, as if trying to make it good, and with a certain amount of respect. He said Moody'd refused the position of Chief Auror saying he'd had enough for a lifetime; Tonks and Remus had preferred to accept a teaching position in the Underage Wizards' School, and that I was his next – and probably best – candidate for the position.

I needed to admit that I respected him as well, he'd given his life for me, for Merlin's sake, rather than tell Voldemort he'd just seen me, at Bill's and Fleur's wedding. And, as everyday life was kind of boring in the Shadowlands, after five minutes of hesitation, we had a deal.

I closed my eyes and took a couple of delighted sips from the hot drink, carefully, so that I wouldn't burn my insides. Suddenly a paper airplane landed on my desk. I instantly recognized an Interdepartmental memo with Scrimgeour's private letterhead and his hasty handwriting.  
_  
"Mr. Potter,_

When you are done with those useless reports of your colleagues, would you mind joining me in my office? There's something I want to discuss with you, tête-a-tête, off the records, concerning one of the people very close to your heart.

Scrimgeour"

My heart sank into my intestines. For some reason, I immediately had to think about Hermione and I got very nervous. I put the coffee cup on my table, summoned my wand and rushed out of my office. Colin, my assistant, only managed to capture the sight of my back.

It didn't take me all in all 30 seconds to reach Scrimgeour's door. I wanted to knock but I heard Scrimgeour's voice inside asking me to enter and saw the door suddenly open by itself. Shaking my head, I entered the cabinet of the Minister of Magic.

Scrimgeour curtly nodded, acknowledging my presence. He was never a man of words, rather a man of deeds, and this time it was no different.

"Relax, Mr. Potter. It's not about your wife and not your daughter as well," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, seeing my mental state. I exhaled slowly, opening my fists and relaxing my hands. His next words, however, hit me below my waist.

"Mrs. Luna Weasley has been attacked half an hour ago by some thugs, while she was returning to her home with her daughter, Ms. Molly Weasley," he stated drily, reading from a piece of parchment in his monotonous voice. Then, he looked up from the parchment, straight into my pale face and enjoyed my embarrassment for a while.

"She's got no life-threatening injuries, only her left leg is broken in several places. She's administered Skele-Gro and most probably will leave St. Mungo's tomorrow morning. Ms. Molly is as healthy as can be. I thought you might be interested, as in the past you seemed to have been … close," he continued, in a somewhat more human tone.

"Yes, Sir, we used to be good friends. Thank you for letting me know, I really appreciate it," was all I managed; I felt relieved she wasn't in danger any more.

"Used to be? Hmmm…" smirked the old fox. "Anyway, you also might be interested, that the three attackers are not in such a good shape…Mrs. Weasley had enclosed them in a sort of crystal orb none of our curse breakers could so far release. Their cautious estimate is that the orb will dissolve by itself in…" he consulted the parchment again "about 300 years from now. Mr. Moody and Mr. Lupin are of the same opinion. Tough girl, this Luna. I saw her fight two Death Eaters alone at that wedding…." He swallowed the second half of the sentence, but very quickly recomposed himself. "Inherited her talents from Aranrhod, her mother, I should say. Here's a Portkey, which will take you to St. Mungo's, you are dismissed for today. Go see your friends, Mr. Potter, as I assume Mr. Ronald Weasley is there as well right now. Better to see them this way, from the Shadowlands, than not see them at all. That's all, Mr. Potter," he dismissed me with a gesture and returned to his reading. But, I daresay, the last expression on his face I'd managed to read before the Portkey pulled me into its whirlwind was an honest, friendly smile.

St. Mungo's was just as overcrowded as I had remembered it from my visit there, several years ago. Wizards and witches were standing in a seemingly endless queue at the Admission desk, where a somewhat hysterical Mediwitch was desperately trying to keep up with the pressure. I cast a quick glance at the information board to see which floor I should be going, when I captured a familiar red head in the crowd. Ron Weasley was making his way towards the admission desk, and the crowd split before him. The war ended not so long ago and being one of the heroes who had played a major role in Voldemort's downfall certainly had its good sides. In the days, weeks after the war, Ron quite understandably enjoyed his celebrity status. By now, it had calmed down quite a bit; still, people recognized him, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Hermione and the other students on the streets, asked for their signatures, photographed them or just shook their hands and murmured their personal thanks.

"Good day, I'm Ronald Weasley," he started introducing himself to the Mediwitch, rather unnecessarily. "Oh Susan, is that you? I haven't seen you for ages!" A huge grin appeared on his freckled face as he hugged Susan Bones.

"Ron, what a surprise! You're here for Luna and Molly Jr, right? They're in 422. Go see them, we'll catch up later," she smiled and urged him towards the lift. "I have an hour left from my shift, we can grab a coffee and talk about things, if you want to."

"I'd love to, Susan," Ron responded hastily. "I'll send Patronus, OK?"

Susan watched as Ron disappeared in the lift, waving at her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she turned back to the now patiently waiting crowd, who now were watching her with a certain amount of admiration. Wearing a half-smile, she thought to herself, _"Well, having a war hero among one's friends __IS certainly interesting..."_, then turned politely to the next patient in the queue: "How may I help you?"

Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss the sad thoughts, emerging in my mind. Her parents were also murdered during Voldemort's regime, so Susan hadn't had an easy life. Still, she'd always been a brave girl and a loyal friend and was one of the first students to Apparate to Hogsmeade before the Battle. Mentally thanking her, I floated upstairs and reached ward 422 together with Ron. He was visibly very upset about what had happened with his wife and daughter less than an hour ago, so he knocked on the door and entered, not even waiting for an answer. I followed him, eager to see with my own eyes if Luna and Molly Jr. were really out of danger.

Luna was sitting straight on her bed, her left foot magically bandaged, a couple of bruises on her face. Her eyes swollen, otherwise she seemed alright. She and Ron exchanged warm, gentle kisses as Ron hugged her protectively to himself and comforted her. Shortly afterwards, Molly woke up and expressed her wish to be fed with a loud cry. Luna undid her nightgown and gently placed Molly on her breast, which she took thankfully. I turned away in order to give them some privacy and my heart almost stopped beating. Luna - well, her Shadowland-going self - was standing all this time behind me, with the same playful, even mischievous smile on her face she was wearing the last time I saw her.

"Don't be so shy, Harry, these are called 'breasts', they don't bite," she teased me as our lips united in a thirsty kiss and she placed my hand on one of those beautiful orbs. I let out a content moan. It felt so good to feel the presence of a woman after a year of being dead. I pressed her fragile body against mine as we explored each other's mouths with our tongues, while I was caressing, gently squeezing her bum. Suddenly, she stopped the kiss, and held me away at arm length, looking deep into my eyes. Then, she turned around and pulled me after her, going straight through the wood of the door. She led me, heading towards a spot, known only to her, and soon we were standing in front of a door bearing the sign "Medical Personnel only." We entered the rather small, windowless room, where the only furniture was a one-person bed, a desk and a chair. Luna magically locked the door and muttered some charms I couldn't make out, causing the room to expand in size, and the bed to turn into a king-size one. Nodding with a satisfied grin on her face, Luna put her wand on the desk, and with a gracious movement undid the waistband of her nightgown – the same one her real self was wearing. The fabric slid on the floor and there she stood, completely naked and beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off her white skin and her perfect breasts. She was enjoying the effect she'd made on me for a while, then stepped very close to me, undid the buttons on my shirt and rid me of it, unbuttoned my jeans and soon I was standing there in my Adam's costume.

"And now, Mr. Wizarding Hero," she whispered in a hoarse voice, "I want to be shagged senseless."

********************

A while later we were just lying on the bed, catching our breath, satisfied, too lazy to move, only enjoying each other's proximity and warmth. I was toying with her golden hair, gently caressing her soft skin, kissing her earlobe, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Luna, my dearest, are you sure we did the right thing?" I asked after a short, sweet while, breaking the silence. She opened her eyes and turned towards me, caressing my lips with her fingers.

"Oh yes, Harry, I'm pretty sure we did," she answered simply, and for some reason her dreamy voice didn't seem so strange this time. On the contrary, there was a certain amount of seriousness in it; still, it was a very warm voice and it was sending pleasant vibrations down my spine.

"Will you – we – remember anything of this?" I went on with my inquisition. She nodded vehemently. "I will, that's for sure," she smiled and teasingly licked her lips, "Mr. Harry Potter here is a natural talent…" Here we both flushed red and laughed in unison. "And, I hope, unless I was completely useless in bed, you will remember as well," she added, kissing me deeply once again. "I will, of course, feel a certain sense of guilt, at least for the time being, but I will get through it. Well, technically speaking, I did cheat on Ron; on the other hand I cheated on him in another life, another dimension…. Brrrr," she shrugged, "even I get confused sometimes."

"I've got to go, love," she stopped me half-way as I hugged her to myself again. "You know I can't stay too long here. Tomorrow I will be released from St. Mungo's, but you will see me pretty soon, I promise. I will teach you how to visit the Dreamscape next time. Good bye, my dear Harry," she kissed me one last time, and she dissolved right between my arms.

Shaking my head, I let out a content sigh. I was, obviously, not less confused now, than an hour ago, but I closed my eyes and imagined the touch of her velvety skin lingering on mine just a little bit longer. Slowly, with a smile on my face, I slid into my dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, 8 o'clock sharp, I was at St. Mungo's again. I still wasn't completely relieved, so I decided to check on Luna and Molly Jr. to see if they really were being released home today. There was a small tumult in front of 422, caused mainly by a bunch of redheads, and I was surprised to see almost the whole Weasley family, including the matriarch in front of the ward, patiently waiting for the Healer on duty to finish his morning round. The only thing I would have never expected was to see my Hermione and Lily among the redheads.

I drew somewhat closer so that I wouldn't miss a word from the vivid, happy conversation. It turned out that Hermione had taken an International Portkey yesterday, as soon as she'd got word of the attack on Luna and Molly Jr, bringing Lily along in order to introduce her to the extended family. Even if I was visiting my family regularly, and since that attack only a couple of weeks ago I'd been checking on them almost every night, just to see they were all right, I was very happy to see my Hermione smiling, showing off proudly with our wonderful daughter. Yet, the immense sadness I've been feeling ever since I'd learned about Lily's birth was still present; she'd never be able to talk or play with her Dad, I 'd never be able to hold her tight, kiss her, teach her things usual - living - fathers would.

I forced myself away from the happy crowd and peeked into the ward, pushing my head through the wood of the door. In a normal situation it would have been funny and freaky at the same time; on one side of the door a headless man, on the other side a manless head, But the Shadowlands were everything but normal, I've already learned that, and the interaction with the normal world, the world of the living, as we called it, could sometimes produce the weirdest effects. In my very first week here, I went through a crocodile's body as it was lying peacefully, digesting its prey, a small kangaroo, and for almost a week, I had to throw up every time I was thinking about food. Dad was laughing until he was hit by Mum's well-aimed Langlock curse, later, when she took pity on him, he explained that we'd better try and avoid physical contact with living creatures.

Inside ward 422 were only the Healer, Ron, Molly and Luna (the latter already in her everyday dress), finalizing paperwork. Luna listened carefully as the Healer explained her the dosage of the Pain-killing Potion, should her freshly healed leg hurt, but suddenly she burst out in an angelic laughter. Of course, stupid me. She saw me as I was peeking into the room, and I must have been a comic sight, even for her. I drew back quickly, in order not to compromise her, but I still managed to catch her playful wink, cast at me, I was sure of that. Ron shook his head, obviously he was still not completely used to her oddities, but said nothing. Luna sent him an apologetic smile and took his hand.

"I should be more careful around her," I thought to myself as I fully emerged back in the corridor, sat down on an empty bench, patiently waiting. Then, all of a sudden, Hermione sat down on the bench besides me, cast a privacy spell around the bench and started nursing Lily. As the little nymph was feeding on her left breast, Hermione inclined her head to the left, causing a bushy strand of hair fall in her eyes. I instinctively reached out to remove the rogue strand from her face, and Hermione suddenly shivered. She looked around, from left to right, but, of course, nobody was there. Nobody, except me. Shaking her head, she went back to nursing Lily, and I, having decided to keep the illusion I'd forced myself into, was just sitting there, with her, watching them with tear-stained eyes.

Some five minutes later Luna emerged from the ward, still holding Ron's hand, while Ron was carrying Molly Jr. She caught sight of Hermione, who, in the meantime, had removed the privacy spell, and letting Ron go, walked up straight to her, then, with a shriek, enclosed my girls in a teary embrace. The three were just standing there, crying from grief and joy at the same time, then Ron came up and hugged Hermione to him, while Luna was making silly faces to Lily, causing the little one giggle. Then, she turned her face to me - her blue eyes tear-stained – and mouthed one word. "Tonight." I shivered with excitement, though little did I know what was expecting me later that night.

I stayed late at the Ministry that day, for no particular reason. It was shortly after 8 pm that I came home, quickly undressed and went into a bathroom to take my usual, stress-removing, hot shower. As I was standing under the hot spray of water, washing away the sweat of yet another day, I could distinctively hear a loud crack. I understood it was Luna, signalling her arrival, so that I could hear it even through the noise of the running water, and I smiled. Was I feeling guilty? Oh yes, I was. I couldn't help it. I remembered our days with Luna, back in my fifth year, our DA sessions, our Thestral flight to London, the attack on Hogwarts a year later, when she was among the handful students answering our call and mentally thanked whatever God there was for wizards for having such a wonderful friend. Now I knew it was not pure friendship she'd been feeling towards me and no matter how much I'd been in love with Hermione, I couldn't help my blossoming feelings towards Luna.

I turned around, with a predator's smile. "I've heard you coming. You could have been more discreet, Apparating into the bathroom of someone just like that," I teased her, while I was searching for her lips.

"Well, if this is what you want, Harry, I can just as well go back..." she replied in the same playful tone and tried to make the illusion she was just about to leave.

"Oh no, my dear. You're not going anywhere," I answered, "not before you're punished for disturbing my beauty shower." I pinned her against the wall and closed the gap between us until their bodies were so close they could have just as well melted together. I felt her body being pressed firmly against me and felt her lips part as my tongue delved into her waiting mouth. She moaned into my neck as I gently bit her earlobe, kissed her china-white neck, her collarbone. I felt her putting her leg around me, pulling me close, until our bodies united again.

I woke up some time later in my own bed, with Luna curled up besides me. It was a wonderful feeling to belong to someone, albeit for stolen minutes, hours only and I mentally cursed myself for having fallen in sleep, with my girl at my side. I turned on my side, only to see Luna, with her crystal clear, blue eyes wide open, her whole face smiling at me. She purred contentedly, like a cat, and turned on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows.

"I saw you today at St. Mungo's, Harry, when you were sitting besides Hermione. I could feel your pain. It was eating your soul like acid eating metal. It's time I fulfill my promise to you," she said seriously, examining my face. It must have been speaking for me, because she nodded. "You will be able to visit them in their dreams, whenever you want to, talk to them, be with them, even touch them."

"Why, Luna? Why are you doing all this for me?" I asked; even with Ron and Hermione around, I was not used to such selflessness from my friends.

"Silly boy, I've already answered this question to you," Luna smiled, caressing my face with feather-light touches of her fingertips. "Because I love you. Because it hurts me to see you being hurt, in pain. Because you belong to her, to them, I'm very well aware of that. No, don't say a word. You know, deep inside, that I'm right. I thank God that we can have this little time only for ourselves, but I know I can't have all of you."

I listened to her, and for a sudden moment I felt a desperate cry of her pained soul; it felt like a hot knife being twisted in my intestines. Overwhelmed by this feeling, my feeling of guilt for letting her down, just like I'd let down Hermione and our daughter, I hugged her and burst out in silent sobs. She was caressing my hair, whispering soothing words into my ear, while I felt her tears falling freely on my face, mixing there with my own tears.

"Don't cry, silly, we have to enjoy that little time we have at our disposal," she said as we slowly composed ourselves. "We have things to do tonight, other things as well," she smiled as we kissed away each other's tears. "How's your Latin?"

"Well, I haven't had extra lessons, but my spells work, so I guess my pronunciation must be alright," I answered as honestly as I could, but in fact I hadn't had the faintest idea.

"We will see, love, we will see," she replied, this time, again, in a serious tone. "There's not much that can go wrong, in a worst-case scenario nothing will happen," she added, and sat straight in the bed, pulling me up into the same position.

"There's a simple incantation you have to pronounce as you think of the person, in whose dream you want to appear," she started, closed her eyes, and began reciting the spell.

"Mors mei, tui vita.  
Mei realitas, somnium tui.  
Donum tibi mei.  
Per tempus et spacium."

Flaming letters started to form in thin air as she pronounced them, the last row clearly louder, in a raised, ringing voice. Then, she opened her eyes, and smiled. "Simple, isn't it, love?"

At first sight, nothing had happened. Then, a silver string appeared in thin air, connecting her with some invisible point, far beyond the boundaries of the room. "Dad has nightmares again. He still dreams of being captured and tortured by those Death Eaters, I'm going to have a chat with him. Off you go, to your family. Thank you for this wonderful night, my dear Harry," she kissed me, and made an urging movement with her hand, signalling "Go!Go!" Then, her figure seemed to dissolve as she touched the silver string, then the string itself evaporated as well.

"Wait, Luna! How do I come back?" I asked in desperation; she hadn't told me that. What if I stay there forever, in their dreams? Suddenly I heard her ringing voice and angelic laughter in my head. "Finite, silly boy, so simple is that!"

Shaking my head, I reluctantly got off the bed, putting on my clothes, scattered on the floor, back again. "I can't possibly appear in Hermione's dream like that, can I?" I asked to myself, while I hastily scribbled down the letters of the incantation, by now almost completely faded, on a piece of parchment. Then, I drew a sharp breath as I sat down on the bed again, closed my eyes, and emptied my mind completely of all thoughts but one; my thoughts of my wife, my beloved girl, my Hermione. I let a small smile form on my face as I loudly, very clearly, with my best possible pronunciation read the words of the incantation, while concentrating on my target.

At first, nothing had happened. Fearing that I said something incorrectly, I was just about to pronounce the spell again, when, seemingly out of nowhere, a silver string, similar to Luna's one, materialized in the air. It was flickering, pulsating, emitting a low, humming sound. It was charged with so much energy that I feared to touch it, feared to burn my fingers against it. Then, the Gryffindor in me took over and I grabbed the silver cord with both hands. I felt something, distantly similar to the well-known sensation of Apparition, being sucked down a drain, only this time I seemed to travel inside that silver cord. My eyes were protesting against the intensity of the light and I closed them. Then, the movement stopped and it turned pitch black.


	4. Chapter 4

I blinked with my eyes several times to give them a chance to get used to darkness. Then, I understood something. It was not simply dark in this world. This world was completely empty, void, colourless. There were no colours, sounds, smells, there was nothing in my Hermione's dreams. I guessed it must have been her dreams; in the distance I could clearly hear an infant's steady, deep breathing and I realized it was Lily. The very first physical evidence of my tiny little girl.

I saw a faint light in the distance and I took off with steady steps towards that direction. After a good five minutes' walk I arrived at a familiar place. It was the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, lit dimly by the candlelight filtering through the windows of the small church just a mere few steps behind. My legs unknowingly took me to the grave where my parents were buried, the grave Hermione and I had visited on Christmas eve, in our seventh year.

There she was, kneeling in the dirty snow, sobbing against a newly placed headstone. Carved in beautiful letters, it read:

_"Here lies  
Harry James Potter  
Wizarding Hero  
Loving and beloved husband and father  
1980-2001" _

Under the text, in the middle of the stone, I was surprised to find my very own picture, taken in second year, with the Quidditch cup in my hands.

Hermione, still hiccuping, slowly composed herself, gently caressing the photo with featherlight touches. Then, she started speaking, in a low, but steady voice.

"I haven't been here for quite a while, Harry, since Lily was born. Nothing changes in this oasis of eternal peace. Only, there's a headstone, which shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have died, Harry. I know it's my fault and I never deserved you, but you shouldn't be dead. You deserved some happiness after all that pain and misery you'd been suffering from throughout your short life and I took it all away from you, only because I was too weak."

"That's not true, Hermione," I answered firmly, kneeling besides her, looking deep into her eyes. "You shouldn't be punishing yourself for things you hadn't done. It was completely my fault, not yours. I was too weak, and ran away from life."

"Harry, is this you?" She looked at me in mere disbelief, with her eyes wide, then shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a bad thought or memory. "But you...you are dead! You are buried in this very place, under this very headstone! How can you be here now, with me?" she demanded. For her rational mind this must have been a shock, I guessed, so I wanted to provide her an easily understandable explanation.

"Technically speaking, I've been stripped of my soul. And as my body couldn't exist without my soul, it ceased its existence as well. So, for your world, I'm dead, yes," I tried to get straight to the point, the simple truth; which, no matter how simple it was, took me months to understand and accept. I couldn't have expected her to understand it in minutes, yet, I had to try.

"But...but I'm sleeping now, I must be dreaming all this. Am I dreaming of you, of us, or is it only some cruel joke someone's playing at me?" she questioned me further, with her eyebrows slightly raised and a hysterical undertone in her voice.

"Not really, my dear. You are sleeping right now, but you are not exactly dreaming all this. It is I who came to visit you in your dream tonight, so physically I'm in the realm of your dreams instead of your thoughts," I smiled at her and slowly, extended my hands towards her. She took my hands and stared at them, still in disbelief. Then, as I pulled her up from the wet snow, she tackled me in a fierce hug and our lips united in a thirsty kiss, for the first time since that fateful day.

"Come with me, there are things I want to tell you," I invited her, smiling through my happy tears. We headed towards my old home where my parents were killed on that Halloween night. On the Dreamscape the manor was intact, most probably because I used to have dreamed about it that way; a beautiful, nineteenth century house, with a magnificent iron gate. The corridor, the kitchen, the rooms, all seemed clean and inhabited, as if the owners went for an evening stroll in the moonlight.

Having set a pot of tea, pouring some of the steaming liquid in two mugs and grabbing a box of biscuits, we made our way towards the living room and sat comfortably on the thick Persian rug in front of the fireplace, watching the flickering flames for a while.

"There are three parallel worlds existing around us, Hermione. The world of the living, where you exist, the Shadowlands, where I live and the Dreamscape, where we are now," I started my story. "We, the dead, can visit the real world, but can't interact with the living. When you were at St. Mungo's today..."

"Wait a minute!" Hermione put down her mug and looked seriously in my eyes. "How on Merlin's saggy pants do you know that?"

"I've been there as well. You were wearing the same pair of jeans you are wearing now. You were talking with the Weasleys and George was making you laugh with his jokes, just like in old times. Later you were sitting on a bench, seemingly unoccupied, cast some privacy charms around you and nursed Lily from your left breast," I tried to give as many details as possible; I wanted her to believe me, for God's sake!

Shaking her head, she slapped me on my shoulder. "Peeking, are we?" she laughed, and I saw her features relaxed a little.

"Well," I started to build up my defense, "I was sitting besides you, so I had a really good view of everything..."

"Pig!" she snorted, desperately trying to look hurt, but at the end she gave in, and she started to laugh open-heartedly, for the first time in so many months. I took her in my arms and hugged her to myself. It was such a wonderful feeling!

"I've been visiting you almost every night since I died, just to see how you and Lily are doing," I admitted in a serious voice. "And tonight, for the very first time ever, I was able to visit you in your dreams. Next time you see Luna, give my regards and thanks to her."

"Luna? As in Lovegood?" she asked in disbelief.

"As in Mrs. Ronald Weasley, love," I corrected her, almost automatically. "You know Luna's always been … odd, to say the least, at least to our understanding. Well, she's one of the few living people who can freely roam both the Shadowlands and the Dreamscape. We have been seeing each other..." here I stopped; I hoped she'd not realized this slip of my tongue. I knew she was not prepared for learning that her deceased husband was seeing, in fact, dating, and to be absolutely correct, having magnificent sex with her friend who is very much alive and kicking. Bloody hell, I was confused, just imagine how much confused she must have been!

"Luna and I have been talking a lot, ever since I died," I corrected myself. "She explained things I should know about the Shadowlands. Mum and Dad and Sirius and … well, the whole gang, they like her a lot."

"Fred, Moody, Remus, Tonks," she started to enumerate on her fingers.

"Dumbledore, Severus, yes, everybody we knew. Strange, but Severus himself is of very high opinion of Luna. Maybe because of the fact that he's dating Aranrhod, Luna's Mum. They were in the same year, only in different Houses, " I nodded.

Hermione had to laugh at the mere idea of Snape dating somebody but suddenly went silent. "Harry, do V....Voldemort and the dead Death Eaters also live in the Shadowlands?" she shrugged in my arms. A brave girl as she'd always been, pronouncing this name was already enough to send unpleasant shivers down her spine.

"Yes, they do. Although, unlike us, the Death Eaters had been stripped of their magic by Merlin himself when they died. Voldemort's just Tom Riddle now, as he always has been, and for all his crimes the Wizengamot sentenced him to public services for an indefinite and endless amount of time. Now he works in St. Mungo's, trying to soothe the pain of those who'd suffered because of him."

"Voldemort in St. Mungo's? No way, you are kidding," she laughed, but seeing my serious face, she gulped.

"No, Hermione, I'm far from kidding. See this as Tom's personal variant to Purgatory," I assured and hugged her to myself, to ease her discomfort and – I had to admit – to extend the sensation of being able to feel her just a little bit more. "Besides, I'm now Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department and I do check on him every now and then, just for the sake of fun. I need to admit that I love to watch the expression on old Snake Head's face when I pop up behind him, completely unexpectedly."

"Tonight Luna visited me in the Shadowlands and taught me an incantation, which lets me enter your dreams. This is how I found you, this is how we can talk, touch, kiss, feel each other," I ended my story, and looked expectantly into her eyes. For a sign that she'd understood what I meant to bring to her.

Still shaking her head, she downed her tea, and without saying a word summoned the pot from the kitchen for a refill.

"I know, it all sounds weird, love, but you have to believe it. There are many things out there what you can't find in your favourite books. For example...this..." I placed my hand under her chin, gently lifted her head and, mesmerized by the fire in her beautiful brown eyes, kissed her, deeply and lovingly, as we used to kiss when we still were together. She hungrily answered the kiss, opening her mouth to allow my probing tongue in. It didn't take too long to tear all our clothes off, and in my last consistent thought I found us completely naked, her fragile body pinned under me and every square inch of her velvety skin covered with me.

"I can't believe I've just made love to my dead husband," joked Hermione, snuggling up in my arms as we slowly came to breath, while I was gently tracing the contours of her curves with my fingers.

"I'm glad you've used the word 'making love' instead of 'having sex' or 'shagging', love," I admitted as I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair I loved so much.

"It was definitely 'making love', my dear Harry. Just like our first time together, the day after the Battle. We have almost surpassed ourselves, " Hermione blushed. "Only, by now we have learned what pleases the other most. I still do hope it won't qualify for necrophilia, will it?" She shrugged at the thought first, but then emitted a nervous laugh, seeing the disbelief on my face.

"Believe me, love, I'm not less confused than you are right now as this whole Dreamscape thing is pretty much new to me, but I guess what we've just done does qualify for a wonderful dream for you and me both," I laughed, while thousands of emotions were running through my head. What a stupid idiot I had been, throwing all this away! How I wished this hadn't been a dream! How I wished I could get a second chance!

Nodding vehemently, she agreed in a husky voice, "Oh yes, definitely a wonderful dream, and I'm all in for a repetition."

"Easy, woman, I'm dead, forgot?" I poke her in the ribs, causing her giggle. Usually, I was easy on her and didn't take advantage of her weak spot; she couldn't handle tickling very well. Now, I let a predator's smile form on my face as I slowly drew nearer.

"No, Harry, don't even try...you hear me? Let...me...go!" She laughed, cried, begged as her lungs were fighting her uncontrollable laughter, desperately trying to expand and breathe in some air. Suddenly, I felt being hit with a curse of some kind and before I knew, I couldn't move any more. Of course, a Full Body-Bind. I knew the effects of this curse ruddy well from my encounters with Malfoy. One of her hands must have skipped my attention; she managed to grab her wand and now it was too late. Now I would have to pay.

Now she was wearing the same smile as she replaced her wand where she'd taken it from, biting her lower lip; a small gesture that always made me crazy.

"You've taken advantage of me when I was defenseless, _Potter,_" she started in a mocking sweet voice, while she was weighing the situation. Hell, I got scared. I knew she was capable of things and she knew I was afraid of tickles as well. But my fear was quickly dissolved as she slowly, very slowly and teasingly, positioned herself above me, letting my eyes freely drink her beauty.

"Now, I'm going to take advantage of you, and I'm going to do it right," she warned in a serious voice and the events which followed proved again that she'd always been a "man" of her words.

We both were woken by the sound of someone crying. She stirred first and yawned.

"Lily's awake, love. I've got to change and feed her. I have to wake up from this dream even if I completely distaste the mere thought of it. I'm so glad I found you again, but I have to go now," she cast an apologetic look at me.

"I love you, Hermione, I always have. I will come to see you again very soon. Good night, sweetheart!" I kissed her one last time.

"I love you too, Harry, and I will be looking forward to it. Will you stay here with us for a while, until we fall asleep again?" she asked, with a slight undertone of hope in her sweet voice.

"If you don't mind me peeking around..." I winked at her and, drawing an intricate pattern with my wand, muttered "_Finite"_, emerging to the Shadowlands just an aeon later.

I watched her as she still shaking her head waved towards the spot I'd just vacated and then, with a content smile on her face, quickly changed the very much awake and very much protesting Lily, who was obviously not used to being kept for so long.

I watched her as she, very much alike the Madonna on the Muggle paintings, nursed our daughter, singing a song I didn't recognize in a hushed voice. A song, which - I understood that - was meant to be sung to me, was meant to be heard by me. A song, which crawled deep under my skin and touched me deep in my heart. A love song, a love lullaby. A loving lament for a deceased husband.

_Where, oh where have you been, my love?_  
_Where, oh where can you be?  
It's been so long, since the moon has gone  
And oh what a wreck you've made me_

Are you there, over the oceans?  
Are you there, up in the sky?  
Until the return of my love  
This lullaby

My hope is on the horizon  
Every face, your eyes I can see  
I plead and pray though each night and day  
Our embrace is only a dream

And as sure as days come from moments  
Each hour becomes a life's time  
When he'd left, I'd only begun this lullaby


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning I slept in. I was completely drained by last night's events. Maybe the amount of magic I'd used up entering the Dreamscape was too much, but I was simply too exhausted to move, even to think. I was not much use at the Ministry as well; I was just sitting at my desk, replaying the previous night in my head, unable to concentrate on the files I was supposed to review before archiving. I half slept through our usual monthly meeting as well, earning some ironic remarks from Scrimgeour himself.

After work I visited Mum and Dad and we had a most delicious dinner. Mum was a very good cook and she prepared my favourite meals, but I had no appetite. To be honest, I was planning to visit Lily tonight and I didn't know what to expect from this visit. How would she react to me? Would she react to me at all? How would I react to her? All huge question marks, and the longer I was trying to decipher them, the more complicated it all seemed.

So, I was just sitting there in silence while the others – we had some guests as well that evening – were having small talk, enjoying a fine drink or simply each other's company and at 9 pm excused myself and went home. Mum cast a sad glance at me and understandingly nodded. The others didn't even realize I was gone.

Once home, I took a quick shower, put on a pair ow worn jeans, a simple white T-shirt and my most comfortable sneakers and grabbed my wand. I took a meditation pose I learned during the Auror training, this time sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, and with all mind power concentrated on the happy moment when I first saw my baby girl when she was born. By now I'd already learned the incantation by heart, so I was more comfortable pronouncing it, and as soon as the last word rang away in the air, the already familiar silver string appeared, almost instantaneously, with a much greater intensity than yesterday. Pocketing my wand, I grabbed the Dream string with both hands and gave myself over to that strange feeling again.

Lily dream was completely different from Hermione's one I'd visited last night. I heard children's laughter, familiar songs, sung in still unsteady voices, and the happy, vivid colours Lily's dream was painted into simply overwhelmed me. Pink, orange, yellow, lime green; the silent witnesses of an innocent child's beautiful life, without bad thoughts, bad memories.

The scene cleared and I found myself at a huge playground, with hundreds of children around me. All seemed to be engaged in their own games. Playing football or hide-and-seek, chasing a ball, riding their bicycles; they were seemingly enjoying themselves and their laughter filled my ears, my heart. Only one girl, probably three years old, was sitting on a bench holding her pink-haired Barbie princess tight. When I got nearer, I recognized her face. She was the older copy of my Lily.

She just sat there, watching the other children play, but didn't seem lonely at all. She wore a secretful smile on her pretty face and it was such a honest, innocent one that I couldn't hold back myself; I brushed her bushy hair with my hand and sighed a small kiss on her forehead.

"May I sit down here?" I inquired politely so that I didn't frighten her.

"Yes, Mister, at least you can keep me company," she answered, curiously measuring me with her eyes.

For some reason it didn't feel weird to see an older copy of my baby girl. It just felt natural that I could talk to her and she understood me and could talk back to me, even though I knew in reality she was only 5 months old.

"Why are you sitting here, all alone, in this beautiful sunshine, while the other children are having so much fun around?" I went on carefully.

"I'm not alone, Mister. I've got my Barbie with me and I've got you around," she replied and her words filled my heart with warmth. She didn't seem afraid of strangers; I made a mental remark to mention Hermione that she should exercise more precaution.

"Well, yes, but I'm still a stranger. Has your Mum never told you not to talk to strangers?" I decided not to push it, just stressed the matter a bit. One could never begin young enough.

"You are a good man, Mister. I can feel it. I can see it from the way you talk, the way you look at me. Besides, my Mum is a powerful witch and any bad guys around would have no chance against her." She said this in such an innocent voice as if she was discussing the most appropriate clothing for her Barbie doll with me.

"May I know your name, sweetie? You can call me Harry, if you want to," I encouraged her.

"See, now you are no stranger any more, Harry," she joked. "My name is Lily. I was named after my Grandma, you know. She died when she was as young as Mum is now. She was very ill and the Doctors could not help her," she explained, with immense sadness in her voice.

OK, so this was the version Hermione had prepared just in case. I needed to admit that this was more appropriate for a small child than the naked truth. Maybe, some time later, she would know that truth, but for now, her mind needed not be traumatised with the horrors of past times.

"One day, I will be a powerful witch as well," she whispered into my ears, "I can move pebbles using my will. I don't even have to touch them. I just imagine them flying in the air and they just fly. Are you a wizard as well, Harry? A powerful one?" she asked in hope.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I took my wand, casting a Privacy charm around us first, then conjured a white lily from thin air and handed it over to the little girl, carefully removing the Privacy charm afterwards.

"Wow! Such a beautiful flower! I like lilies, you know." Lily inhaled the sweet scent of the flower, closing her eyes. "So you ARE a real wizard, Harry, with a _wand_," she concluded after a short while. "My Mum has got one, too, only a little shorter. She makes the knives cut food when she's cooking and she does our hair with her wand as well. Can I see yours?"

I nodded silently, then handed it over to her. At first, she held it the other way around, but then instinctively corrected herself. She waved it in an unsure pattern, nevertheless – to her and my surprise – an empty Pepsi can rose from the ground and following her directions landed in the trashbin. With a lopsided grin, she handed me back the phoenix wand.

"I don't like your wand, Harry. It feels bad. It has hurt people. I will ask Mum to buy me a nice one when I turn eleven," she explained, seeing my questioning look.

"You don't even want to know, sweetie," I thought to myself, but said nothing. With a sigh, pocketed my wand and using a wandless incantation, turned her yellow summer dress into pink and with another one conjured a flock of canaries, Hermione's trademark spell Ron had once encountered. This time, the canaries didn't attack anyone, they rather flew circles around Lily's head, then just sat on her shoulder singing their songs into her ears. She just giggled, marvelling the wonder her brain was still too young to understand.

When the last canary dissolved in thin air, Lily's small finger poked me in my ribs."See, there's my Mum, her best friend, Aunt Ginny and Bobby, her son; Uncle Dean is at work. I don't like playing with Bobby. He's so pushy!" Pointing towards a bench a little further, she sighed with so much frustration in her voice that I couldn't suppress a hearty laugh.

"No need to laugh, Harry," she looked at me a little bit hurt. "There's no fun in playing with a git who's constantly pulling on your hair and calling you names." I raised my hand in surrender, silently giving her a thumbs-up for her clear reasoning.

"What names is he calling you, Lily?" I had to ask because I wanted to try and remove her frustration, overshadowing her mind.

"Well...names...." she shrugged her shoulders. "Like 'I hate your hair', 'ugly cow'..." she stopped and looked away, but I understood there was something she wouldn't say. To ease her discomfort, I pulled my wand again and started transfiguring some pebbles into tennis balls. This was the maximum of McGonagall's classes I still could remember.

"He calls me a 'bastard' and says my Dad had left me," she went on, rather unexpectedly. Now, this was something what really caught me off guard. Are Ginny and Dean discussing me in such dulcet tones in front of their 6-months old boy? Is Ron involved? How on Earth can Lily pick up these things from Bobby? Does Hermione know about this? All important questions I desperately needed an answer for and I made a mental note that I might have to talk to Ginny on this, now that I knew the way.

"Lily, that can't be true. Your dad couldn't possible have left such a sweet girl and such a beautiful Mum." I decided to play on her simple emotions. "Most probably your Dad works somewhere in a far country and he just hasn't had a chance yet to come home to you."

"If my Dad loved me, he would have come to visit me at least once," she whispered, and a lone teardrop ran down on her pretty face. "Everybody has a Dad. Bobby has Daddy Dean, Molly has Daddy Ron, only I haven't got one."

"Lily, listen to me. I didn't know my Dad and my Mum at all. They died in a car accident, when I was very young, younger even than you are now." This was the very first time the Dursleys' tale about my parents had come handy.

"I know it for sure, I can feel it, that your Dad loves you more than anything else and one beautiful day he will come home to you and Mammy Hermione. You know I'm a wizard, so I know things other people don't know. I give you my Wizarding word. Pinky swear!" We interconnected our fingers and I saw her features smoothen and soon she was smiling again. I hugged my little girl to myself, exhaling sharply. Pfff, that was easier than I had expected!

"Look, Harry! There's my best friend! He comes to this playground every day to play with me," Lily exclaimed suddenly, standing up from the bench and clapping with her tiny hands in sheer excitement. A big, shabby black dog was galopping our way, waggling his tail.

"Padfoot, my friend! You've come!" Lily's voice was ringing with happiness. She hugged the dog to herself and buried her face in the animal's hair.

My eyes interlocked with the dog's warm brown eyes.

"_Padfoot, she's not ready yet. Don't tell her, she won't understand!"_ I begged him.

He emitted a short bark, which could have just as well meant "OK" and nodded, visibly only to me. I knelt down by him and hugged him to myself, while he was busy licking my ear.

"EWH! Padfoot, you nasty dog!" cried Lily. "Look, what you've done to my friend Harry. He's soaking wet now!"

I could have sworn Padfoot was laughing. Translated to human language, his sentence probably meant _"You should have seen him after the second task; now, that's what I call soaking wet."_ Lily did not have to know about this one, as of yet.

And the three of us just played together a good half an hour, completely forgetting about everybody and everything; Lily and I were throwing the tennis balls far away and Padfoot was bringing them back to us. Then Padfoot started chasing a careless squirrel and Lily watched amazedly how the small animal zigzagged across the park with an incredible speed before it found a tree it could climb. Padfoot just stood under the tree for a while, calling the squirrel to come back and play with him – squirrels must have been tasty, I assumed. When the dog understood its toy was gone, it proudly turned around, acknowledging that this game was lost and walked back to us.

I caught sight of Hermione, Ginny and Bobby again as the three made their way towards us. As it was Lily's dream, they couldn't possibly see me, still I found it the proper moment to call it a day.

"I need to go now, little Lily. I still have things to do at home," I stood up from the bench. "It was nice to meet you. I really enjoyed talking to you."

"Nice to meet you too, Harry. Will I see you again?" she inquired.

"Well, if you really want to, I guess, we can work something out..." I teased her and bent down to kiss her on her forehead. "Well, now that I know where you usually play, I can visit you here. I live not far from this place, just a couple of minutes' walk." "Or Apparition," I continued the sentence in myself.

She threw her small arms around my neck and planted a hearty smooch on my nose.

"I like you, Harry. Do you want to be my friend? We could play then every day with Padfoot, just the three of us," with eyes full of hope, she asked.

"There's nothing I would like more than that, sweetheart," I admitted, and it was a fine feeling that I didn't have to lie at all, for the first time today. Giving her a last peck, I waved her goodbye and, making sure no one could see me, made my way to a desolated corner of the playground, behind some young bushes. Once there, I swiftly muttered the counter-charm and in the next mum I felt I was being sucked away from the ground, back to the safety and comfort of the soft Persian rug in front of my fireplace.


	6. Chapter 6

Still breathing heavily, I sat there, before the fireplace, for what seemed an eternity and tried to render my thoughts conscious. I was totally messed up by my emotions and exhausted as hell from having walked the Dreamscape for so long. I would have never expected that my first meeting with my baby girl would completely drain me.

After a good fifteen minutes I managed to bring my heart-rate back to normal and tried to sum up the results, summoning a quill and a sheet of parchment.

"First of all, Lily hates being a baby and wants to be a big girl, otherwise she wouldn't have assumed the form of a three-year old in her dream," I wrote on the parchment. That must have been true, seeing the way she was talking. She seemed more mature to me there, sitting on the bench, than any girl of her age. "Must be her mother's influence," I thought and a smile formed on my face as I recalled the sweet caresses and kisses of the previous night. The very fact of me sitting here and taking systematical notes on things was also one of the footprints my years with Hermione had left on me. How many evenings, nights had we spent in the Common Room or in the Library, doing homework, preparing for the Triwizard Tournament, studying for our exams!

"Second, Lily is aware of not having a Dad and wishes she had one. She's jealous of her friends." Now, that was a more disturbing issue. Obviously Hermione is a wonderful mother and she can always count on Augusta and Simon, her parents. Nevertheless, a child would always need his father. That one I'd learned from personal experience.

The quill scraped another line on the parchment in the light of the toyful flames in the fireplace. "Sidenote: Why is Bobby calling my Lily these names? Whose influence is this? Talk to Ginny/Ron!" Well, this was one of the tasks I certainly wasn't looking forward to. Hell, I can't just appear in Ginny's dreams and play Grand Inquisitor! This one needed a more subtle approach and I had to work out a good strategy for it.

What's more important was that our Lily most probably had great magical potential. I was still dumbfounded at the ease how she'd levitated that soda can with a borrowed wand – my wand, that is – using a nonverbal incantation. Heck, she was even capable of sensing that I'd hurt people with my wand! If that was no proof, what else? Of course, Hermione used various household charms every day Lily could witness, so her mind simply accumulated these sightings in her subconscious. Drawing a simple conclusion, after a minute of careful thinking, I added the next bullet point, "Third, Lily meets every condition to become a powerful witch." My task as father would have been to ensure this.

In my train of thoughts I came now to the main point, which was becoming more and more confusing as time went by. Putting down the quill, I closed my eyes and massaged my aching temples for a while. Drawing a sharp breath, I wrote on. "Fourth, I love Hermione and Lily. I desperately want to reunite with them." This one, I was sure as Hell about. I already knew from Dumbledore, after Sirius' death, that the dead can't be brought back, so my chances to join them in the world of the living were next to nothing. About the other possibililty, the possibility of something unthinkable happening to both my girls, I flatly refused to think. Suddenly, I remembered that morning, a week after Luna's confession, and my thoughts suddenly raced away.

I felt a sudden urge take control of me as I put down the next line. "What does the sentence on my bathroom mirror 'There's a way back from behind the Veil' means? Ask Luna!" Yes, I was sure that was Luna's work. The capital "L" was enough proof of it. Would that mean that she knew anything other, more capable wizards including my parents, Remus, Sirius, even Dumbledore didn't?

Sweet Luna. She was always a faithful friend and I must admit there were times she was the only one I could turn to. I always felt we had more in common than one would have thought. We both were considered freaks, outcasts; people used to laugh at us, point their fingers at us and we had no one else who would understand us. At times I felt drawn to her, at times a random touch of our fingers would electrify the air and cause us to blush, but we never thought it would go that far.

When I saw her new Patronus, I understood that she must have been very much in love with me. I knew of two cases when someone's Patronus had changed: Severus and Tonks. Both were head over heels, their endless love initiating this change at the very heart of their magical core. I had to admit that I hadn't expected this and I didn't know how to react. I had warm feelings towards Luna but I wasn't sure I was capable of answering her love.

Having reached this point, the events of this night started to take their toll on me and I couldn't suppress several powerful yawns. I summoned a blanket from my bed and curled up on the rug, watching the dying embers. Before I fell steadily asleep, my hand, almost unknowingly, managed to scrape another unsteady line on the parchment.

"I...love...Luna...and...don't...want...to...lose...her..."

* * *

I locked myself up in my small house for the two coming days. Being utterly confused and helpless wouldn't correctly describe my mental state. I closed down the Floo network, set up anti-Apparition wards around the house and spent these two days digesting the mess I'd gotten myself into. "Dying changes everything"* said a wise Muggle once; I could have sworn he'd never reckoned the existence of the side effects my dying suddenly had implied on me.

Here I was, a very properly dead and buried young wizard. I was helplessly in love with my wonderful wife, my best mate of eight Hogwarts years, the mother of our beautiful daughter, and - at the same time, completely out of my hand - with another witch, somewhat eccentric and weird, nevertheless with a heart the size of the Atlantic Ocean, who had been silently in love with me for quite a number of years. Someone who always understood me, someone who always supported me when there was nobody and nothing else to rely on.

I had read and re-read that blasted piece of parchment for about a thousand times and the more often I read it, the more confused I got. Finally, on the third evening, I unlocked the Floo network and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Potter Manor, Godric's Hollow," I cried out in a trembling voice. "Mum, are you there? Mum, I need you!"

I heard excited voices on the other side of the connection. Then, the face of the person I craved most to see this moment, Lily Potter's freckled face appeared in the fireplace, surrounded by a halo of gorgeous red hair. At first, she had a look of someone who'd just seen ghosts. Quite understandably, here in the Shadowlands. Then, she glanced at me with a look only mothers are capable of; mothers, concerned by their children's well-being.

"I'm here, sweetheart, I'm here," she started to speak in her soothing voice, very much like I was still a one-year old boy troubled by those tummy issues. Then, she turned away for a second and shooed away Dad from the fireplace.

"Men...always sticking their nose into other people's business," she emitted a somewhat nervous, forced laugh. "I'll tell him later. What's up, Harry?"

"Mum, I need your advice," I mumbled, examining the pattern on the Persian rug, then looked up to meet her glance.

Carefully examining my face, she nodded understandingly. "Women. I guess the usage of 'Plural' is just correct." Seeing my disbelief, she giggled as a little schoolgirl. "Come on, I've seen enough grief-strucken boys at Hogwarts! You all are as easy to read as my first-year Potions book."

I suppressed the urge to make an uncivilized comment on Potions books and on the subject of Potions in general. I knew she was a brilliant Potions student and one of old Sluggy's favourites, yet, she could have found a more acceptable comparison to the subject of my headache. Then I suddenly remembered the one Potions book I was fond of and grinned her back in answer.

"Shall I come over?" she inquired, and without even waiting for my answer, she stepped into the fireplace, only to land in my room a fracture of a second later. Her arrival was totally different from Tonks' visits; one gracious step, her hair flying around in the hair as she was blazing it clean from the soot with her wand. Poor Tonks, the last time she came over, she tripped and fell over my glass table and it took me a good hour to patch her up from the hundreds of cuts.

"Good to see you, Mum," I hugged her and sat besides her on the couch, nestling my head on her shoulder for a while, enjoying her proximity I had to miss for two decades. Summoning a pot of coffee and a healthy bite of Ms. Figg's signature apple cake, we enjoyed ourselves for a while, engaging in small talk and carefully avoiding the main issue of the day. Finally, having finished her third helping of the cake, Mum let out a loud moan. "Enough. One more bite and I'm dead." Carefully examining my face – I bit my lips in a desperate attempt not to give away my amusement – she suddenly went serious. I couldn't hold myself back any longer and burst out in a hysterical laughter, then she joined in as well, finally understanding the hilarity of what she'd just said.

As we slowly composed ourselves again, wiping away our tears, Mum turned serious.

"You know, Harry," she started carefully, "that May we all thought something big could happen anytime soon. First that German woman with her baby, slaughtered for no reason … simply gruesome, shortly afterwards Gregorovitch, the wandmaker and then Grindelwald. Then we saw the souls of those murdered Gringotts' goblins appear into the Shadowlands and Dumbledore questioned them as well. He quickly put two and two together and understood what was bound to be happening, so he asked us to patrol Hogwarts grounds. Not that we were able to or allowed to interfere with the real world, we were supposed to... supposed to..." She stopped, obviously unwilling to continue with the awful truth.

"Watch over us?" I offered, keen to help.

Swallowing several times, she made a wry gesture. "Rather function as a pickup service, let's put it this way," she sighed. I must have looked comical because she emitted a short, nervous laughter and pulled me closer. "To welcome home those of you who … die in the battle."

That did it. I lost so many friends in the battle and I felt responsible for the death of each of them. This feeling of responsibility, grief and shame, however, as I myself entered the Shadowlands and reunited with them, slowly succumbed, only to be brought up again upon hearing these words. I opened the taps and let my tears flow, burying my head in Mum's shoulder while she was caressing my head and whispered her comforting words into my ear.

Drawing another sharp breath, I inhaled her sweet scent and looked up questioningly into her eyes, then turned away. Placing her index finger under my chin, she turned my head back, facing her again.

"We've been through this, Harry. Don't make me repeat myself for the umpteenth time. It was war. Those who fought, fought from their own will, not because you'd commanded them to. They chose their path knowing the possible alternatives. You can not and should not blame yourself for their deaths. _Do you understand that?_" she finished in a slightly raised voice while her cheeks flushed red.

I saw not other option but agree with her. She was dangerous in her anger. Oh yes, Dad could fill a book with stories. So I slowly nodded and her features relaxed.

She hugged me to herself again and went on in her melodic voice.

"So, as I said, we were patrolling Hogwarts when you summoned us using the Ring. Later, when Voldemort's Killing Curse hit you, I saw a most curious thing happen. Something only a woman would see," she stopped again as if she were teasing me.

I groaned in exasperation. "I know, Mum, which sex Dad and I belong to. Will you make it somewhat shorter and to the point, PLEASE?"

"Oh, yes, I know you both. Never had a real affinity to a woman's soul, you two," she giggled, playfully slapping me on my shoulder. "Like I said, a most peculiar thing happened in the Great Hall. Exactly the same moment two witches grabbed their chest in pain and crumpled on the floor, fainting. Do I have to spell their names or will you fill me in?" she inquired, playfully winking at me.

I mentally slapped myself. Ignorant and insensitive as I'd been, I was never aware of the real feelings of those particular witches. While Hermione and I confessed our love to each other shortly after Voldemort had been disposed of, Luna's hidden feelings had totally been ignored. Only now had I understood what it must have been like for her all this time.

"So, Mr. James Potter Jr, your current problem now is called 'Hermione Potter vs Luna Weasley'. Am I right or am I right?"

I groaned again, then shook Mum's hands off me, got up and started pacing around the room. Why do women have to make everything so complicated. Can't they ever learn to speak a normal language without irony, sarcasm and caveats?

She was watching me with a mixture of curiosity, understanding and a hint of sorrow. Of course she understood me. Mothers understand their children better than anyone else. Then she had enough. "Come on, sit back. You make me dizzy with this pacing of yours."

I summoned two bottles of Butterbeer from the refrigerator and handed over one to her. Having downed the contents of my bottle until the last drop, I suddenly found my voice.

"Mum, I'm so confused."

"I know, Luna told me the other day," she replied as-a-matter-of-factly. "She is very much in love with you and very much concerned about you."

"You see, that's exactly my point, Mum," I answered honestly. "I've been totally ignorant of her all these years, completely unaware of her feelings to me."

Mum took my hands into hers. "What do YOUR feelings say?" she inquired. "In which words does your heart speak of her? Remember, it's not a quiz, there are no wrong answers here."

I didn't have to think about the answer twice. "I love her. You see, that's the point."

"Are you sure it's not only physical attraction you're feeling towards her? Wearing her X-Ray look, capable of seeing through me, she examined my face again, which slowly turned into Weasley red. "Come on, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Apart from the fact that Luna's cheating on her husband with you, of course..."

"Mum, she loves Ron. Being soul-bound is ancient magic and beyond our reach. I didn't ask her to change her Patronus ... just like you didn't ask Severus to change his ..." Now it was my turn to watch her face as it turned into a huge question mark. I raised my hand to stop her questions. "Mum, it's none of my business. Ask him yourself." She swallowed and nodded curtly.

"So yes, Luna and I are seeing each other every now and then. However, trustful and loyal as she is, she constantly keeps me reminding that Hermione and I belong together." I summoned my wand and extracted a silvery string of memory from my forehead, then touched her forehead with the tip of my wand. She closed her eyes as she was rewatching the memories. Not all of them, there were some I decided to keep private.

Slowly blinking with her eyes, Mum shook herself out of the slight trance. I saw several tears in those eyes.

"Luna is a unique girl," she started cautiously. "I've never known anybody else who could freely roam the Three Planes. Except Merlin, and to some extent the Founders and Dumbledore, of course. She's clearly in love with you and I could feel from your memory that you were answering your feelings."

"That's one side of the coin only, Mum," I interjected, preparing another silvery string.

"So Luna had taught you the Dreamwalk," she nodded when she was done watching my second memory. "Hermione still couldn't get fully over the fact of losing you, that's why her dream was so void. In the beginning, she had no feelings at all. However, when you left her dream later - and I don't even want to know what had happened in the meantime – she flourished up again." Seeing the flush on my face, she smiled. "Even if it was just a dream, you gave her hope. The hope to see you again."

"What about this, Mum?" I projected a single picture in the air with my wand. Within a fracture of a second I wished I hadn't done that. Never ever in my entire life had I seen someone's face change so dramatically.

"Stop it right there, Harry James Potter!" Mum was furious. "There's no such thing! There's no way back to the world of the living!" I was taken aback by this huge change in her mood and raised both hands in defeat.

She continued, already somewhat calmer. "Your father and I'd been searching for a way to come back to you ever since we were killed. Don't you think we would've done that if we could, to save you from all that misery you'd been forced into? Forget it, son. To the outside world, we are irreversibly dead."

In a smooth movement, she stood up and pulled me up as well. "You wanted my advice, so here it is. If you continue seeing those girls, your bond, your feelings for each other will grow stronger by the day. There might come a day when one of them decides to join you in Death, only to be with you for eternity. And that, my dear Harry, WILL be your blame." With these words, she stepped into the fireplace, leaving me standing there dumbfounded, alone in the whirling vortex of my thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

CRASH! The china coffeepot we'd just emptied flew toward the fireplace and shattered into thousands of tiny particles, just seconds after the green flames went out. I was trembling with fury and I honestly didn't care if I hurt anyone. _Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant_. I loudly grunted in frustration, when my shock caused by the last words of Lily Potter Sr. was reduced to a manageable minimum. _Just what I needed in my miserable situation. Just what the Witch doctor prescribed: a one-way ticket to Guilt Express. _Although, I can't say this was unexpected after what Luna'd told me that night. This had to be solved, the earlier, the better, before something unthinkable could happen to my girls. The only problem was that I had no idea whatsoever as to how to climb out of this situation with minimum damage to all affected.

I understood all too well what Mum had meant. Even in real, normal, living life, it was an unwise thing to burn the candle at two ends at the same time. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be with my wife and my precious little gem, our Lily. There were only two tiny obstacles on our way to happiness. First and foremost of all, I was irreversibly dead. Second, I didn't want to hurt Luna, didn't want to cause her any more pain than I'd already caused to her.

Of course, I just could have told her in plain English that we couldn't see each other any more. Even if she understood me much better that I understood myself, even if she kept saying that this was the way things should have happened, this would have hurt her like hell and this was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. I have already caused enough suffering to people I'd loved and who'd loved me and I'd just have broken her heart.

Even though it was already midnight, I couldn't think of going to sleep. I thought life had never been easy, but being dead certainly hadn't made it easier. I needed to clear out my head and think and I knew just the perfect spot.

Somewhere, on the outskirts of Shadowlands, stood an ancient construction, which had no equivalent in the world of the living. More precisely, it was not a construction, it was a well. Located in a serene, peaceful place on a magnificent plateau, surrounded by ever-blossoming magnolia trees, the Well of Nepenthe was the final destination of all souls in the Shadowlands, who got tired of their everyday existence. When you jump in the dark, opaque water filling the well, your soul's stripped of your body and you join the myriads of other souls patiently waiting the Final Day, the Day of Truth, so I was told.

This was a place you couldn't travel with any normal wizarding means. You couldn't mount a broom and ride here. Portkeys and Apparition were out of question as well. You had to _want_ to be here, you had to _will_ yourself here. This was what I'd been doing in the very first weeks, months after my death. This was a place where I could clearly think; the serenity and peacefulness of the place did certainly have a positive, excitatory effect on the working of my brain cells.

I closed my eyes and purged my head from all rogue thoughts, clearly focusing on my target. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in my favourite place; just a few hundred paces from the Well, in a small oak forest. I lay flat on the ground and quietly observed the incredibly clear, starry sky, which sometimes frightened me with its endlessness, but today it seemed as if I was breathing in unison with it.

The forest was full with life forms of all kinds, sorts and types, and, even at this late hour, it was alive. I heard the unmistakable, crunching noise of small feet stepping on dead leaves and last year's twigs and acorns the ever-hungry squirrels hadn't devoured. Owls were hooting in the sky; the polyphonic chirping of the crickets filled the air. In the crown of one of the centuries-old oaks a small colony of bats nestled; their high-pitch chorus rose eerily into the cold night. They were ready for another successful hunting round.

Suddenly, I heard a twig snapping under someone's feet. The Auror reflexes kicked in and I jumped smoothly on my feet, in the same movement pointing my wand at the chest of the newcomer.

"The last time I saw you, Harry, you were not so animous. Well, you were, only not towards me. You almost did hex poor Draco into next century, you nasty boy," the bespectacled girl cackled at me, moving my wand away with her index finger. "I did enjoy our little cuddling in the prefects' bathroom, though," she added, winking at me.

I rated my disbelief 9 at the Richter scale.

"Myrtle! What are you doing here, of all places?" I asked in a voice that wasn't really steady.

"Here, there, everywhere," she poked her tongue out at me. _Brilliant. Now even she was talking riddles to me._

"Could you spell that out? I'm not up to unraveling subtle hints today," I grunted and pocketed my wand, flashing an apologetical half-smile at the … ghost? Hell, no. She seemed all material to me, not the ectoplasmatic being I remembered her to be.

As if she were practising Occlumency at me, she cackled again in her rather irritating way. "Well, having died the way I had made me kind of stuck on the border of the two worlds. I may not have a body in the world of the living, but I'm more than a simple dead soul, thank you very much!" she added rather squirmishly. Suddenly, her eyes flashed up and she looked at me with a somewhat predatory smile I didn't like at all.

"You here, you dead," she concluded. _What an IQ. _"Can we do some more cuddling?" she asked suddenly and I needed to count to ten before I managed to breathe again.

"No, Myrtle, we can absolutely NOT do any cuddling!" I cut all her hopes off. In an instant, I saw a hurt look appear behind his thick-framed, old-fashioned spectacles, and her sudden, high-pitch shriek made the fine hairs on my neck stand. I took a deep breath and did some damage assessment, raising my hand in surrender.

"OK, Myrtle, I guess you can cuddle up with me a little. Only no tricks, please, I have enough on my mind right now." No sooned had I finished my sentence than she was already taking my hand and pulling me towards an ancient fallen tree, then sat down besides me, putting her head onto my shoulder.

"You know, your girls are lucky to have you, Harry," she suddenly said, out of the blue, and sighed dreamily, snuggling closer. Whatever I was mumbling in answer shouldn't have been too comprehensive, because she raised her head and looked into my eyes questioningly. I returned the glance, but said nothing.

"Well," she started ambiguously, "I've never been a big expert in boys, and my love life had been non-existent until the moment I died, but it's common courtesy to help someone in trouble. And even I see that you're in trouble. Talk to me, Harry."

Her voice suddenly seemed different, more … normal. I took a deep breath and considered phraseology.

"It's very generous of you, Myrtle, to offer your help, but I don't feel up to discussing my love life with anyone right now," I said in a hushed, somewhat faraway voice.

"I don't want to discuss your love life, Harry. Sometimes, talking just helps."

I couldn't believe I was doing it. Talk my woes out with the person I least expected to open up for. Well, not including Tom Riddle, maybe.

"Luna's been my best friend, the last seven years or so," Myrtle started. "She confided me in everything. You know, nobody's taking a ghost seriously, she is. We had long talks here, in the Shadowlands, about the meaning of Life and Death and things like that; you know, girlie talk all the way."

Even in this weird situation, I couldn't suppress a short laugh. In fact, I started feeling better, no matter what. Myrtle'd had her own share of personal woes, both in life and death, but underneath all this, she was just a girl, even being fifty-some Earthly years older than me. So, aforementioned girlie talks could just as well have taken place and, knowing Luna's aptitude to all creatures odd and weird, I was sure they'd had meaningful conversations.

Myrtle whispered on. "When you died for the second time, she was broken. She was ready to come after you, she told me. I almost had to Imperius her in order to prevent it; she would've most probably ended up as a ghost with her capabilities, anyway. Besides, her death would have killed old Xeno and Ron."

My eyes assumed the size of a saucer. "Luna, a ghost?"

"Of course, Harry!" She said it with such reprimand in her voice that I almost felt ashamed. "Those who could roam the Planes while alive will continue to be able to after they die. And then, there are those who died somewhat unconventional deaths like Sir Nicholas or myself. How did _you_ die, Harry?" She looked into my eyes with childish curiosity, and my initial animosity towards her dissolved completely.

However, my face clouded over very quickly. I didn't want to relive that moment, ever. Moreover, I was absolutely not sure what had happened then. I remembered my dreams the day before, the dreams of being a condor. I remembered that wonderful night on the top of Uluru, as well as the desperation that had completely taken me over when I woke up with sunrise and Hermione wasn't there. I felt again that itching sensation on my back but I didn't know whether or not it had been a product of my imagination or some bad juju, the deed of the awoken spirits of the Anangu.

Very slowly, taking every word into good consideration, I relayed my thoughts to Myrtle, who was carefully listening to my somewhat incomprehensive speech. At the end, she simply nodded.

"If you hadn't been sleeping on Binn's lessons," she started in a very much "I'm-Hermione- Granger-by-the-way-who-are-you" voice, "you'd know that certain cultures believed their dead would return if they'd died of unnatural stuff or committed suicide. They'd stake them, cut their heads off, filled their mouths with garlic, all the nice things. Ghosts, strigoi, vampires, werewolves, they all believed in and they were partly right. You always were a cute boy, and you would make a cute ghost indeed," she continued, standing up and stretching her legs.

We walked silently to the Well, as I was too shocked to talk. Me, a ghost? I couldn't imagine myself dancing around, wrapped into a white sheet and scaring the willies out of people, just for fun. Suddenly, I had to laugh. Of course, this was only a stereotype I'd picked up one night from some 1930's black-and-white film on TV, when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were out and Dudley was already asleep. I'd seen and known several ghosts at Hogwarts and they were nothing like that. Then, another thought struck me and I gleamed at Myrtle.

"Do you want to say that if I become a ghost, I will be able to interact with the living? Be around them whenever I want to? See Hermione, see Lily grow up?" I was overwhelmed with this new possibility. But then, I thought of that sentence on my bathroom mirror and my enthusiasm chilled down several hundred degrees, although I didn't speak about it to Myrtle.

"To become a ghost, Harry," Myrtle reproachfully started, "it's already too late. It will happen in the moment of your death or it will never happen at all. You missed the train, so to say."

I was, strangely, satisfied with the answer. Sitting on the ancient stone well, I absent-mindedly watched the unearthly, oily, black water. I reached with my index finger to probe it, but Myrtle pulled my hand away in a swift movement.

"Don't touch the water, Harry!" she shrieked. "It will suck out the memories of your past life out of you until you're nothing but an empty shell and fill you with a longing to take a dive and end it all, finally and irrevocably."

"You still have a life, even if it's here, in the Shadowlands," she continued in a hushed, uncharacteristically normal voice. "You have your family, friends, and you have the ties to the world of the living."

"You seen, that's my problem, Myrtle," I explained. "I'm torn between two worlds and two young women I equally love."

"Tsk, tsk, the young rascal," she hit me playfully on my shoulder. Seeing my hurt glance, she backed up.

"Not my fault, in case you want to know!" I snapped unnecessarily at her, taking a defensive position but it didn't make me feel any safer. On the contrary. Little did I known that the solution was lying there, within the reach of my hands.

"Well, strictly speaking, leaving Hermione _was _your fault," she started cautiously, raising her hand when she saw I was just about to interject. "I know about all crap you'd been through in your life and that morning you'd simply had too much on your plate. Not nice of her to have left you, twice, but a man – or a woman – can be only that strong and she'd had enough to cope with as well."

_Blah-blah-blah, yadda-yadda-yadda. _Tell me something I don't know.

She didn't misunderstand my glance, that's for sure, because she shot back an identical glare. I lowered my head and looked down into my hands as if they held an oracle. Any words would have been ambiguous. She was right.

"Harry, you have no choice. You can't go back to Hermione and Lily," she stated, clearly not interested what I was thinking about it, "and you shouldn't tear apart Luna's family. You have to accept this, for once, and start living your life, here and now."

Suddenly, I got an alarming feeling inside. It felt as if a string was attached to me and it was burning now. Then, I heard Luna's voice in my head, very clearly, as if she was sitting here with me. "_Harry, where are you?" _

I closed my eyes, completely missing the curious look on Myrtle's face, and concentrated hard. _"I'm at the Well of Nepenthe, love. What's wrong?"_

I never realized my connection to Luna until now, but for some strange reason I instinctively knew this should have been it. _Cool_, I thought. Even through Time, Space and Planes, I could talk to her. Her next sentence, however, cooled down my enthusiasm.

"_I'm at your place, Harry. I can't go to the Well, but I desperately need to talk to you. It's Ron..."_

I understood she was crying, her message was unclear as if it took her a lot of energy to focus. Saying my goodbye to Myrtle, I closed my eyes again and concentrated at the small house I lived in. I felt the Well trying to force me to stay, but I didn't give in and the next moment I stood in front of my entrance, holding my crying soulmate in my arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Luna was trembling in my arms, shaking with silent sobs. Through the bond, I heard her pained soul desperately crying for help and understanding.

I led her into my home and seated her on the sofa, briefly leaving her alone while I fixed some tea for us both. Pouring a generous amount of firewhiskey into her tea, I thrust the steaming mug into her small, pale hand. She drank a few hasty gulps and painfully flinched when the hot liquid burned her lips. _That _pain I could take away, of her other problems I wasn't that sure.

I murmured a simple spell healing the burns, and she raised her tear-stained eyes, casting a sad, yet thankful glance at me. I emitted a surprised shriek and jumped up, pouring my hot tea all over me. Suppressing the four-letter words I was just about to say, I quickly dried myself off and knelt down in front of her, taking a careful look at her face.

The ugly, red trace of four fingers on her left cheek were clearly visible, even by the faint candle-light.

I gently touched her face, wishing I could be somewhere else right now. I wanted to scream out loud; I wanted to hit something hard with my fists until the snapping sound of a broken bone would bring me out of my rage.

It was superfluous to ask what had happened to her. I ached to learn, however, why it had happened, but I didn't want to ask her about it. It was her call whether or not she would tell.

At first, she hissed from the pain when my fingers touched her swollen, purple skin. I quickly pulled my hand away but she grabbed it and snuggled her cheek back into my palm. It was hot; it was burning my skin and I felt my insides boiling with anger. How on Earth could Ron have done anything that low? For crying out loud, this is your wife, the mother of your daughter, you insensible, daft, sorry excuse of a man? How could you, you two-faced idiot, who had risked your life for saving others on more than occasion, do anything similar to the person who loves you more than her own life?

"It's my mistake, Harry," Luna whispered. She must have felt my inner storm, because she took my hand and squeezed it gently. Now, it was _my_ turn to flush red with shame. It was _I_ who was supposed to comfort her now, and not vice versa. I muttered something incomprehensible and reached for my want to heal her bruises. She tried to object meekly saying that she'd been a bad mother and she deserved it but I wanted nothing of this crap; with a few small wand movements – basic healing spells, first year of Auror training – got rid of the bruises, then, not being able to restrain myself, kissed her gently on the same spot.

It wasn't right, it just wasn't, I knew that. We both sinned, we both – unwillingly – hurt people we wanted to hurt the least, when we engaged into our secret relationship. She loved me, had been loving me way back, even before she got together with Ron, and I could do nothing against my blossoming feelings towards her.

We still didn't speak; I knew she would tell sooner or later. So I just silently stood up and pulled her up as well and, still holding her hand, went outside into the small backyard. The roses Mum had planted were in full blossoming; their sweet scent filled the nightly air and apart from the buzzing of a few bumblebees who seemingly didn't notice it was well after midnight there was complete silence.

We comfortably sat down on a bench and she laid her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. I raised my head and looked into the pale disk of the full moon, illuminating the landscape in the clear night. It felt as if it wanted to tell me something and I almost jumped up when I heard the soft voice. It took me a few heartbeats to realize that it was Luna who spoke.

"It was full moon the night I was born, Harry," she whispered as if not willing to break the magical silence. "That's why Mum named me 'Luna'. She was the goddess of the Moon in Roman mythology."

I looked at her silhouette as she was staring at the celestial object. She had something of a goddess, I had to admit. When in her company, however, one had to be patient if he wanted to discuss a particular matter; she did like to blurt out things absolutely not belonging to the moment.

"Did you know that I have a second name as well? I'm Luna _Selene_ Lovegood," she continued after a brief silence, stressing the name, looking at me with a curious glance. I calmly answered her glance, looking into those incredibly blue eyes, now at the faint moonlight only a lighter shade of grey.

"It's a beautiful name, Luna. Let me guess, is it also mythological?" I asked, trying to look well-read, which I obviously wasn't. She smiled, approvingly patting my shoulder and snuggling into my embrace.

"Good boy. Selene was also a lunar goddess, well before Roman times if that matters. See, Mum was fascinated with ancient times and cultures." I nodded.

The first time I saw Aranrhod Lovegood, she was dressed in a simple white tunic, barefooted, her golden hair falling freely well below her waist tamed only by a simple wreath on her head. Pretty much like a Greek goddess on a fresco or in an "ancient history" school book.

___It happened shortly after I'd come to the Shadowlands. After the initial shock of meeting my parents, my deceased teachers and friends wore off, one evening Luna dropped by at my place. Not saying a word, she took my hand and ____Apparated us away. The next thing I remembered was materializing in front of an impeccably clean, two-storey house laid from simple white brick, surrounded with a neat little garden._

The woman answering the door was exactly how I'd imagined Luna twenty years from now. Without saying a word, she reached out with her both hands and pulled me into a close hug; being a few inched taller than her, the leaves of the wreath she was wearing were tickling my nose and I sneezed loudly, flushing pink in embarrassment. That evening was one of the weirdest, but at the same time one of the most pleasant experiences in my entire life.

Aranrhod was a very kind woman, always speaking in a hushed voice. Apart from that, her voice sounded exactly like Luna's; in the beginning I was turning my head around trying to figure out why was talking. Later, I started to distinguish the two voices; Aranrhod spoke with a very slight, almost uncatchable accent due to her Welsh origins, as I was told. A few times during the evening, the two women, each other's best friends, uttered a few phrases in a foreign language, bursting out in angelic laughter. Later Luna answered my question; it was Gaelic they spoke.

Aranrhod Lovegood was a very powerful witch as well. Magic was radiating from her; the kind of powerful magic that electrified the air around her, causing the small hairs on my neck stand up. Either her magic was different from ours, or she was even more powerful then Albus Dumbledore; I never felt anything similar in the presence of my old mentor. The few times our hands incidentally touched I could swear I was feeling an electric discharge on my skin. She effortlessly conjured fire without a wand; nothing like Hermione's blue flames or the red fireballs Veela's were so proficient in. She researched and practiced the magic of the ancient Druids, this method of creating fire being a part of this almost forgotten art.

We talked much that night, of things important and unimportant, of good and bad things, drank foul-tasted herbal teas, ate weird fruits and berries I'd never heard of before. The hours flew by unnoticed and by the time dawn had almost broken in I felt almost all my pain and doubts being washed away. Leaving Hermione and our unborn child behind, in the world of the living, was still lying on my chest as a heavy rock, this pain would never go away, but I finally managed to make peace with the fact that I was dead, thanks to these two angelic creatures. I instantly liked Mrs. Lovegood, and Luna, well, she'd been a very good friend of mine ever since my fifth year.

When I, exhausted but for the first time in months smiling, was taking my leave profusely thanking the duo for everything, Aranrhod drew me aside. Closing her eyes, she muttered something in a language I couldn't place and drew a strange symbol on my forehead with her index finger. "This rune will defend you from anything dark, be it inside you or coming from the outside, Harry," she whispered ___as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss my forehead on the same spot. "You've been Luna's best friend, these last few years. My door will be always open for you, should you need someone to talk to." _

I felt Luna shifting slightly on the bench and, as if mesmerized, shook my head, emerging from my memories. I knew in an instant she was ready to talk to me.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ron hurt me, Harry," Luna started in a panicked, weird voice, as if ashamed that such thing had happened to her. It was a shameful event indeed, only it wasn't her who should have been ashamed in this case. I knew it had been Ron, and I knew that he had hit her, I just wanted to know why on Merlin's name he had done such a lowly thing.

Given, Ron had a record of being bold and insensitive to those that would have deserved better. Quite a few things had happened during our Hogwarts years that, no matter how hard I'd been trying to forget them, were still present deep inside, a sensitive wound that started oozing blood as you carefully started unwrapping the bandage covering it.

We had fought in our fourth year, when he, in yet another rage of jealousy, accused me for going for fame by having put my name into the Goblet of Fire. It was just about my worst few months at Hogwarts; as if the animosity of the three other houses hadn't been enough, I almost had to be killed by the Horntail so that the one I used to consider my best friend would finally see reason and understand the simple truth I'd been trying to explain to him quite some time. It was, just like many times before and after that, Hermione to keep the spark inside me alive, so that I was able to walk the corridors with my head raised and see past the "Potter Stinks!" badges all but a handful of students – mostly from the other two participating schools – refused to wear.

When he finally admitted that he had been a git all this time – not that I minded if he hadn't, at that point – I tried to close my eyes at the past and enjoy the fact that I'd finally got my best friend back.

Then, I was forced to watch how his co-called "romance" with Hermione was unfolding in sixth year. I saw him hurt her numerous times; I saw her with red, puffy eyes almost every day because in his egoism he was unable to see past his own nose and put always his interests upfront. The best thing I could do was lend a shoulder to her to cry on. I knew I shouldn't and mustn't have interfered in their relationship; it was something for them to sort out. Later on, sometimes I was thinking I had most probably made one of my biggest mistakes by not interfering then; it could have spared us all the tears and humiliation; all the years wasted in vain on searching what all this time was within our reach.

When he left us just like that in that forest, our world had turned upside down. Hermione was lost without him; I, with an emotional range of barely greater than that of a tea-spoon, wasn't there when she needed me most. I wasn't able to provide her the comfort and safety she needed; there was the two of us but we hadn't grown into the team we should be in order to succeed.

From the distance of the few past years, I could clearly understand that this event had been the trigger for Hermione and me; this was the point of no return for both of us. And, even if we hadn't admitted that – something we both had felt sorry for ever since – that day the Golden Trio had ceased to exist. After Ron's return us were three again, but things had never been the same afterwards. And now this.

I reached this point in my train of thoughts before I could count to three; Luna's last word was still ringing in my ear. My blood was boiling and I instinctively reached for my wand. Luna didn't miss this small movement and put her small hand on my arm, trying to calm me.

"What did he do to you, love? More importantly, why did he hit you, of all people?" I asked in a hoarse voice, unwillingly going into Auror mode. I reached for her hand and felt her fingers clenching mine with such an unexpected strength, that I involuntarily hissed from pain. I rather felt than saw her apologetic smile and gave her a reassuring peck on her cheek. I didn't dare more at this time. It would have been inappropriate even though I was longing to kiss her, to touch her, to feel her.

"My dear Harry, I'm such a bad mother!" she suddenly began sobbing. I gently hugged her to myself and questioningly raised my eyebrows, even though it was not visible in the faint moonlight. It seemed though that even the celestial orb flinched as it drew closer to listen into our conversation, to find out what had happened to her.

"I was bathing little Molly tonight," my girl continued a few moments later, somewhat calmer, "and I was just about to pull her out of the bathtub when she somehow slipped out of my hand. I may have not rinsed her off properly from the soap; I have no other explanation for it. Luckily, I managed to cast a wandless Cushioning charm that stopped her from falling into the bath again, but Ron came in the bathroom this very moment and saw only little Molly falling. I had never seen him that frantic, ever. Even during the Battle, when he went after Fenrir Greyback. He was absolutely calm and concentrated when he cast the Killing Curse at the werewolf. Tonight he went berserker in two seconds. He shouted at me, he called me names, he told me I was the worst mother in the world, while I was clutching Molly to myself. Then he hit me straight in the face, not caring that I could drop my girl, this time for real. Does it make me a bad mother, Harry?" She raised her tear-stained face at me, the moonlight eerily reflected in her huge blue eyes.

I drew a few sharp breaths and clenched my fingers into a tight fist a few times. "Luna, love, I never had a mother and the closest to being one to me was Mrs. Weasley, all this time. " I admitted the well-known fact as if it were the news of the century. "Leaving this beyond consideration, I would have been the happiest child on Earth if I had a mother like you. I saw how gentle, loving, caring, protective you are to little Molly; there's not much more any child could ever…"

Luna didn't let me finish the sentence. She ferociously attached my lips with hers, momentarily taking my breath away; softly moaning into my mouth as I pressed her tiny frame against me, my tongue gently sweeping over her lips seeking entrance. I felt desire and lust washing over me, over us, like a giant wave over a stormy sea, but I tried to fight my dangerously rising level of hormones knowing that this was not the appropriate moment for it, no matter how I longed for her.

With a last, gentle kiss, I held her away at arm's length. "Luna, sweetheart, there's something I have to do, right now. Ron has been hurting everybody he has been close with. Some of those past events could be explained, one way or another, but there's no explanation for what he has done to you today. This has to stop."

Then, something unexpected happened. In one swift movement, the beautiful young witch stood up from the bench and before I could object, she was kneeling in front of me on the ground, openly crying again.

"Harry, please don't hurt him! I love him, even if he sometimes treats me bad. I know it's not him, really, it's only a bad Nargles' infestation that makes him do things like that. Please do-o-on't hurt my Ron!"

Before she could finish the first sentence, I knelt in front of her, however, that "sometimes" made me frown. So, this wasn't the first time? Of course, what else was to be expected from Mr. Weasley?

I gently cupped my girl's cheeks and rested my forehead against hers.

"Luna, by hurting your husband I would be hurting you and I promised myself a long ago never to hurt you again. I won't touch him with a finger and won't raise my wand at him, I swear on my existence and magic!" I pronounced clearly before Luna could stop my mouth with her hand.

Here, in the Shadowlands, no wand was necessary to complete the Wizard's Oath. The white flare that appeared briefly around my body was sufficient proof that my oath had been accepted by the Powers-that-be and, while Luna would have trusted me even without the Oath, I simply had to make sure. At least for myself. Had I pulled my wand to curse Ron to the Moon and back, I would have at least got a short warning, an excruciating pain starting in my magic core and setting my nerves on fire, before my soul was stripped from my body and sent to the Plane of Souls, to wait patiently for the Day of Weighing, the Day of Judgment.

I kissed her slowly, savouring every moment of the kiss and stood in a smooth movement, gently pulling her up as well. I brushed a few stray dirty blond locks of hair from her sweet face and wiped the dirt from her knees, aching not to break skin contact with her. But I had to do this, the sooner, the better.

"I have to go, love," I said simply, trying to sound more resolute than I was. "I'm going to make sure that that insensitive git of yours won't hurt you, or anybody else, ever again. Please, go back to your world now and don't worry. Everything will be just fine. And, if I'm not mistaken, Ron will tell you everything in the morning. Go!" I repeated impatiently, as I saw her contours starting to dissolve in the air, the sign that she had been spending too much time here in the Shadowlands and she had to return to the world of the living if she didn't want to get stuck on the border of the two Planes until the end of Time.

She threw me a last kiss through the air, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

At first, I Flooed Mum and Dad and quickly explained everything. Mum was quickly flushing a vivid shade or purple and she started yelling at me that I shouldn't be interfering with their lives. It didn't do me any good; just when I needed all my patience and calmness, I had to face the infamous Lily Potter-temper again.

"Mum, with all respect, shut it." I never ever hit a tone like this against her; having been gotten by surprise, she just did what I said, a few times silently opening and closing her mouth. "I'm not interfering into their lives; I'm merely doing what I should have done years ago. Ron has been hurting and betraying people, especially the ones closest to him and we have always forgiven him for that. And, before you go spare on me again, I have made up my mind about Luna. I will have to hurt her one last time and you know that I would rather cut my right hand off than do that, but it has to be done."

With an irritated scoff, I broke the Floo call. Pocketing my wand, I quickly did the usual meditation and breathing exercise and muttered the incantation, weaving Ron's name into the text.

Ron's dream was orange. Such a bright orange that I had to cover my eyes as I reached my destination. When I was able to distinguish forms and colours again, I was surprised to find myself at the empty Quidditch stadium of the Chudley Cannons. In the distance, I could easily make out the contours of my once best friend, lazily circling around the poles on his Firefox 2000. From behind my back, I could hear the approving roar of the crown as Ron finished an Impeccable Wronski's feint and was just hovering in mid-air, breathing heavily, but with a victorious smile on his freckled face.

I pulled my wand and said the incantation I had in mind, silently praying that I wouldn't be stuck in this form forever. Having seen movement in the distance, Ron sped towards the source of this movement – me, that is - on the broom and I saw his eyes grow the size of a saucer, fear and panic imminent in them. The next second, however, I was forced to admit that he somehow managed to overcome his legendary fear of spiders; I heard him curse under his breath and the next moment he sent a Stunner my way. I don't even know how I managed to deflect the jinx; it wasn't an easy task to hold my wand in the front leg of a giant Acromantula.

Before I even managed to turn my huge, hairy body, uncomfortably wobbling on eight legs I still hadn't gotten used to, he came again in a crash-dive, sending another Stunner into me. I saw his face was whiter than chalk, yet, he pressed his lips into a thin line and charged at me, pulling up the last second before any of my legs could reach him.

"I can't believe I can't blast this fucking spider into pieces!" I heard him curse again, this time loud and I felt it was time. Clearly intoning "Expelliarmus", I knocked his wand out of his hand and stepped on it.

"Get off your broom, you moron," I hissed in a voice, barely resembling human. "You and I, we need to have a small chat." He gave no notice, so I had to go over to more drastic measures. My next jinx blasted his broom into tiny particles; his resulting fall from about thirty feet was stopped by a quick Cushioning charm. Levitating him closer, I put him on his feet and applied a partial Body-bind Curse, strong enough so that his feet wouldn't move and he couldn't escape.

"As I told you, Ron, we need to talk. You have done something today I never thought you'd ever be capable of. Luna told me that you had hit her, you lowly piece of dragon excrement." I was pissed as hell; the insults came far too easily.

Having been forced to stand in front of an Acromantula only slightly smaller than him, without his wand, his courage has left the ginger-head very quickly. He went even paler; were it not for the Body-bind that had left no space for movement, his legs would have already given in. For a small moment I realized that I was being no better than him, having forced him into a nightmare and appearing before him in a spider's body, however I was sure it was my only chance to make myself understood. Were he able to face his biggest fear, he should be able to face what he had done as well as the consequences his cowardly deed might inflict upon his stubborn head.

"GO AWAY!" He pulled himself together with an incredible strength. "I'm not talking to fucking spiders!" Then, he finally understood what I had just told him and stood there, his mouth agape, for a whole minute. "Harry? What the hell... Turn back into yourself so that I could see you! You know I hate spiders," he whined somewhat pathetically.

I raised my two front legs and, to make my point, clicked with my fangs a few times. "Why would I do that, Ron? Now I at least have your attention."

He struggled against his magical bounds trying to back off, to get away from the disgusting creature I had turned myself into, but his muscles wouldn't listen, of course. He went even paler, if that was at all possible, and for a moment, seeing that frightened grimace on his face, I felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Tell me, Ronald Weasley, Knight of the Order of Merlin, First Degree, do you remember our years at school? Do you remember how many times you had hurt one of us and how many times, basically each and every fucking time, you got away with it? Do I have to spell out those moments to you or can you remember them on your own?" I spoke, well, rather hissed, slowly; the mouth of a spider is not really well accustomed to forming the sounds of human speech. He barely perceptible nodded, his mouth agape, the display of sheer horror in his eyes. I drew just the slightest bit closer to him as I continued.

"Ron, Ron, you have everything in this life you have ever wished for yourself and yet, you are insatiable. Do you enjoy your celebrity status that much? Do you feel strong, having beaten up Luna? Do you always pay for friendship, love and care with betrayal? Because this is betrayal, Ron. Luna is your wife and the mother of your daughter, for Merlin's sake!" I was trembling with anger and could barely control myself, my wand emitting sparks of different colours.

For a moment, I saw anger in his eyes, briefly replacing panic. Then the flash was gone, as quick as it had appeared, only to surrender to understanding and immense sadness. Ron gulped heavily as he finally understood what he had done. He lowered his head in deep shame and to my surprise I saw tears glistering in his eyes.

With a casual flick of my wand, I released him from the Body-bind. Too disgusted to look at him any more, I kicked his wand, still under one of my feet a good ten yards away and turned away from him, slowly filtering my farewell words through my fangs.

"You go home to Luna and your daughter and prove to your wife that she will not be making a mistake by considering to forgive you. If you're extremely lucky, she might want to grant you a second chance. Use it wisely; you might not be getting a third one. "


	10. Chapter 10

Luna and Ron were walking in the brisk morning sunshine, hand in hand, having just left the town of Glastonbury behind. Spending the weekend at Aunt Muriel's place, the young couple saw this a perfect opportunity to spend some time together and talk things over, with Molly perfectly happy to have her granddaughter only for herself for two days and spoil her rotten.

The road, slowly, turned into a path, leading towards a small hill the locals called Glastonbury Tor and spiralled towards the top, where the ruins of St. Michael's Tower - once a proud church – were still standing. Halfway to the top, Ron abruptly stood, trying to catch his breath, and cast a wide glance over the surroundings: the city by now left far behind, the fresh green fields of Somerset, where young wheat danced at the rhythm of the morning breeze coming from the sea. Gently placing his hand on Luna's shoulder, he reassuringly smiled at her and draw her closer, softly kissing her cheek and they just stood there for a while, their eyes drinking in the serenity of the picture.

Wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, Ron rummaged in his bag, then swallowed the beginning of some handpicked four-letter words he was just about to say, seeing that he packed nothing to drink and apologetically smiled at his wife.

"Don't worry, Ronald," the blond witch smiled at him. "There is a spring not far from the foot of the hill where we can have a drink on our way down. It's called the 'Chalice Well'; I will tell you why when we get there. Come on, the sooner we're up, the sooner we're down." Taking his hand, she set off towards the ruins - still a few hundred yards away - gently pulling the red-headed boy. Shaking his head, Ron hesitantly followed her dancing steps, mentally cursing himself for not even packing a sandwich to make his situation more bearable.

"So, here we are." Luna proudly pointed at the remnants of the church. The tower was surprisingly intact; raising at a good 40 yards in height with its top built in form of a bastion it resembled more of a castle or fortress than a place of prayer and speaking to God. But then, back in the Middle Ages, churches were fortified, she mused, her eyes marvelling the few bas-reliefs still intact on the limestone façade. Twisting his neck upwards, Ron mumbled something incomprehensible, not quite sure whether it was worth the long climb, but quickly cooled off when he saw the breathtaking view opening in front of him on Somerset.

Opening his bag again, he produced a photo camera, a Wizarding model, and, wincing from concentration, took a picture, focusing on the city of Glastonbury. Slightly shifting to get a better perspective, he was about to snap a second photo, when he felt the weight of a small, warm hand on his shoulder and turned around, only to be greeted by his wife's radiant smile.

"I'm going to take a good look around, Ronald, while you are here," she smiled, brushing his fiery red hair. "This warm Southern slope would be a perfect place for lacewing flies to breed; one can never know when a dose of Polyjuice potion can come in handy. I won't take long."

Savouring every second, Ron kissed the beaming young witch forcefully on her lips, pulling her close; for a moment he forgot about photography and just about everything else as he caressed her cheeks with his fingers. Slightly out of breath, they broke apart and he nodded silently. She quickly pecked the tip of his nose and took off towards some place only she knew, when Ron's voice stopped her in her track, completely startling her.

"Luna?"

"What is it, love?"

"I... I love you, Luna," Ron stuttered, flushing his trademark red.

The smile on Luna's face threatened to dislocate her jaws. "I can feel that, Ronald, and I love you too," she waved him goodbye and disappeared behind a half-ruined wall, Ron's glance intently following her until the last moment.

Walking along the wall section, the path suddenly cleared and Luna found herself in front of what must have been the main entrance to the church in times when crusaders roamed the Holy Land trying to drive away the conquerors of the Ottoman empire. Once a magnificent building that had seen coronations, weddings and funerals, heard secrets and confessions, plans forged and carried out, burnt down and resurrected from its ashes, now a somber monument to those times passed long ago.

The simple romanesque archway, some fifteen feet high, looked down at the young witch: a one-eyed Cyclops inviting her to enter its domain, and she made a hesitating step, then a second one. Through the half-ruined wall opposite the archway, the sunlight illuminated a few well-worn marble floor tiles. A few birds nestling high up in the tower were startled by the sound of her steps; the flapping of their wings echoed eerily in the air, amplified by this giant organ pipe.

Luna made a third, somewhat steadier step as her eyes got gradually used to the darkness and she gasped in surprise. The surroundings changed; where until a second ago there were the four walls of the church tower, now there stood nothing. Turning around, she observed that the archway was gone as well and she was now standing under the starry, nightly sky, somewhere on a hilltop. A cold, constant breeze gave away that the sea must have been close and indeed, her ears picked up the unmistakable sound of waves washing over stone almost immediately. There was a dark object a few dozen yards ahead of her and she slowly moved in that direction, carefully treading on the rocks in the faint starlight, whispering '_Lumos_'. Her wand lit the object, that turned out to be a huge, brick-shaped monolith of black, almost translucent marble.

Moving closer, Luna curiously eyed the stone glistering in the faint wand-light with an eerie, oily glow and when she, finally reached it, she gasped in awe. It was no ordinary stone. It was a sarcophagus.

Curiosity took over the young witch and she amplified the light casting '_Lumos Maxima_', shielding her eyes from the sudden light reflected by the perfectly polished stone. She felt magic radiating from the sarcophagus, but she couldn't even guess what magic it was and what purpose it served. Leaning over on the stone, she searched for inscriptions on it but she found none, instead she found a life-size bas-relief of a knight on top of it. Wearing the armour of the first Crusade, the knight's arms were crossed on his chest, his bearded face radiating power and authority. On his stretched body lay his longsword, the symbol of kings.

Now in Ravenclaw mode, the young witch walked around the sarcophagus examining each stone, each detail, trying to find any clues as to who the mysterious person might be, but in vain. After a good ten minutes' search, however, her eyes suddenly fell on the coat of arms of the knight and she, emitting a surprised gasp, fell on her knees.

Her eyes closed, her voice, barely above a whisper, recited a stanza in a long forgotten language.

"_...try can eurdoch a gryssyassant_

_en amwyn breithell bu edrywant_

_ket rylade hwy wy ladassant_

_a hyt orfen byt etmyc vydant._

_ac or sawl a aytham o gyt garant._

_tru namen vn gur nyt englyssant..." (*)_

"Avalon... King Arthur... So the legend is true..." she whispered, raising her tear-stained face to the stars. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, she was overwhelmed with emotions, having just done most probably one of the most important discoveries in the history of mankind.

"Yes, the legend is true indeed, young Ravenclaw. Rowena has been proud of you, all these years, and not without a reason, as it seems. You figured out in a few minutes what other people couldn't figure out in a lifetime." The ringing baritone completely startled her and she jumped in one swift motion, training her wand on the speaker. The man in his sixties, give or take a few years, now moved out of the shadows and made a few slow steps towards the young witch, then stood again, crossing his arms on his chest. Clothed in a black cloak that had the Moon and stars embroidered on it in silver and golden thread, he was barely distinguishable from the nightly sky, only his livid blue eyes shone from his face. His figure radiated the same type of magic Luna had been feeling around the sarcophagus and, when Luna took a better look at his cloak, she couldn't suppress a frightened gasp. The stars on the fabric were pulsating, the Moon slowly going through its four phases as if the cloak itself were part of the sky.

Then, the Ravenclaw in her took over again and she pocketed her wand, curiously eyeing the man. Raising on her feet, she made a hesitating step towards the newcomer, instinctively feeling that she had nothing to fear from him. Many questions were attacking her mind in quick succession and she desperately tried to order them to start with the most important ones.

"Sir, if I may ask, are we _really_ in Avalon? How did I get here?" she asked curiously.

"I think, druid, that you already know the answer to your own question," the man answered, somewhat amused, yet, without the faintest trace of irony in his powerful voice.

"Me, a druid? Excuse me, Sir, but..."

"No mistake here, Luna Selene Lovegood," the mysterious man raised his hand, hiding a smile on his face. "If you don't believe me, ask yourself how you all of a sudden could recite a text written in Ancient Welsh, _my_ mother tongue, and, if I may say so, absolutely correctly. And, if you still doubt it, ask yourself what the name of your blessed mother was and what it had to do with _your_ name."

"Aranrhod... 'silver circle' in Welsh... Luna... 'moon'... Selene 'moon goddess'..." muttered the dumbfounded girl, staring in front of herself with unseeing, glassy eyes. Then comprehension dawned on her face and the stranger, seeing her expression change from disbelief to understanding, smiled encouragingly at the young witch. "Yes, your blessed mother was a Moon priestess, Ms. Lovegood. But, as far as I remember, we are not here to discuss your origins; we have more important things to attend to."

Luna started to get lost in the Maelstrom of latest events and was unable to follow the man's train of thoughts. "My apologies, Sir, but I really don't understand what you are talking about. What things could you and I possibly have in common?"

The man scratched his head in a rather comic way. "It is I who needs to apologize, Ms. Lovegood. I should have introduced myself first to a young lady; in my time it would have been a grave offense. I think some of your questions would have been answered by now if I had done so. I run by many names but the one you might know sounds Myrddin Emrys."

The girl was about to answer the courtesy when the name that just had been pronounced started to sink in, and she swallowed back her words. Slowly kneeling down in front of the man, she respectfully bowed her head, framed by her silvery locks.

"Great Merlin..."

"Rise, my child," the man spoke with power and authority in his voice, yet friendly and lovingly, and his voice suddenly seemed to be coming from everywhere: the air, the ground, the rocks, even the stars. Reaching out with his hand towards the young witch, he pulled her up in one smooth movement, the touch of his hand stirring up her magical core and soothing, comforting her.

Luna, still unable to believe that she had just been introduced to the greatest wizard in history, just stood there, her mouth slightly agape, and the man flashed her a heartening smile. Waving his hand, he conjured two comfortable armchairs from thin air and gestured towards the girl to be seated, then seated himself as well, neatly arranging his robe on his knees. Nodding satisfiedly, he spoke up again.

"I sense this way would be more comfortable to see to our little things here, don't you think so, Ms. Lovegood?"

"The archway of St. Michael's Tower... Is it _really _a portal to Avalon? Is King Arthur _really_ buried here, Great Merlin? So the legend was based on truth, at least partly," Luna spoke in her dreamy voice.

"Like I said, my child, Rowena has every right to proud of you," Merlin spoke lovingly in his soft baritone. Satisfied with this answer-and-still-no-answer, Luna grinned ferociously. "Was Lady Ravenclaw also that happy for having lost Hermione Granger to Lord Gryffindor?"

Merlin burst out in roaring laughter. "Touche! I need to admit that there was a slight confusion as to which House Ms. Granger should have been sorted into. The Sorting Hat chose Gryffindor House because of her bravery, but I do recall Godric muttering '_Confundus_' during her sorting. If I may say so, you and Ms. Granger could have equally been sorted into either of the Houses – you two carry the distinctive traits of both Houses - but we thought it wiser to maintain the balance inside Hogwarts."

Filing this piece of information, Luna nodded profusely. "And thus was written in the books... I don't want to sound cheeky, Great Merlin, but it would be nice for a change if we would be able to form our own destinies, at least occasionally."

"I'm afraid that the Universe doesn't work that way, my daughter," the smile disappeared from Merlin's face. "See, this is the most cherished child of the Creator and He just wanted to make sure. But, in a way, you _all_ are able to form your destinies by the choices you are making."

"Why don't you just tell this to Harry Potter!" Luna snapped unexpectedly, for a moment not caring who she was talking to. "Was it _his_ choice to live ten years under that goddamned cupboard and be abused by his so-called relatives in every imaginable and non-imaginable way? Was it _his_ choice to be raised and shaped as Dumbledore's secret weapon and poster boy for the Greater Good? Not to speak about driving him towards a state when Death suddenly seemed a salvation to him?" She was losing her temper and getting wound up and was not bothering about choosing her words.

"You love Mr. Potter, don't you, Ms. Lovegood?" the ancient wizard inquired softly, putting his hand soothingly on the girl's shoulder.

Raising her head, the blond witch glared at the man, her lips pressed together into a thin line. "I would go for him until the end of the world, twice. My mind is an open book for you, Great Merlin, why don't you see it for yourself?"

The wizard's piercing blue eyes suddenly seemed to grow bigger and bigger until they filled the space in front of Luna and she, taking a deep breath, dove into the endless blue. She felt gentle pressure as Merlin's mind swam in her memories, sorting them, pushing the irrelevant pieces aside and she decided to help him in his search.

Concentrating, she started with the memory of the very first time she had spoken to Harry, in her fourth year, during the carriage ride to Hogwarts. Then, as she became more and more confident, her thoughts became perfectly ordered as well.

… _their talks in the Forest while feeding the Thestrals ..._

… _the DA lessons under Umbridge's terror …_

… _the battle at the Department of Mysteries ..._

… _the leaving feast the same year, shortly after Sirius Black's death, Harry's hand in hers …_

… _her cheering for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Harry in particular in her fifth year …_

… _sharing the small vial of Felix Felicis with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville …_

… _fighting Death Eaters when Dumbledore was murdered …_

… _Harry and Ron trying to save her from Malfoy Manor …_

… _the pain she felt when Voldemort's voice announced Harry's death …_

… _the joy she felt when he turned out to be alive and well and finally disposed of Voldemort …_

… _the excruciating pain that almost caused her to follow him when he, hurt and pained, descended into the Shadowlands ..._

… _the utter bliss when he, finally, claimed her and became one with her ..._

"I think I have received an answer to my question," smiled Merlin and Luna, still somewhat dazed, shook herself out of the slight trance. "What about Mr. and Mrs. Potter?"

At first, Luna lowered her head in shame. Then, she looked into Merlin's eyes again, proudly, and pushed a single memory towards him, a memory of her dreams that had been continuously haunting her in her fifth and sixth year.

"I understand," Merlin nodded curtly. "You are soul-bound and that explains everything. And, my daughter, please allow me to say that you don't cease to amaze me. For many people are capable of loving but it is a trait of a great person to be capable of letting go of the one you dearly love."

"I told you, Great Merlin, that I would do anything for Harry," Luna raised her tear-stained eyes at the ancient wizard. Suddenly, a small breeze awoke, that softly caressed her face and whispered soothing words into her ears and Merlin smiled encouragingly at her. "So I have heard, my child, so I have heard. And now, you want to perform the '_Resurrectio Animi_' ritual to bring him back to the world of the living. Do I need to ask which sources you gathered your knowledge of this ritual from?"

Luna calmly stood Merlin's examining glance, saying nothing. The wizard sighed, barely audibly, feeling the power of sheer determination radiating from the girl. "You are aware what the implications of this ritual are?" He got another confident nod in answer. "Are you really aware what dangers this ritual may bring, should it go haywire?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Luna shrieked, and a sudden outburst of spontaneous magical energy shook the ground where they sat. Shaking his head at the young witch's antics, Merlin stood and the girl followed his example. Taking both her hands into his, he looked into her blue eyes one last time. "I'm afraid I can't allow you and your friends to take such an immense risk..."

"With all respect, Great Merlin, I don't care. I will - we will – carry out the ritual, whether or not you agree."

"Silence, you stupid girl! You don't know, you can't even understand what you are talking about!" Merlin suddenly lost his temper and the sheer power of his voice forced the girl on her knees.

"My apologies, Great Merlin," Luna lowered her head in shame. "I shouldn't have spoken to you in those words."

"Rise, druid!" Merlin commanded and Luna stood on her shaking legs. To her greatest surprise, Merlin suddenly bowed his head and briefly brought her hand to his lips. "Your love and devotion to Mr. Potter is seemingly endless and you deserve your sacred wish to be fulfilled. What I meant to say was, _before I was so roughly interrupted_, that I wouldn't allow _you_ to perform the ritual. I will conduct it _myself_, just to ensure its success."

_"Three hundred gold-torqued men attacked,_

_Guarding their land, bloody was the slaughter,_

_Although they were slain, they slew;_

_And until the end of the world they will be honoured._

_And of all of us kinsmen who went together,_

_Sad, but for one man, none escaped."_

_Quote from the poem 'Y Gododdin' from the book named Llyfr Aneirin, dated around 1265. This is the very first written piece mentioning King Arthur._


	11. Chapter 11

Time flew by almost unnoticed, and I quite enjoyed myself strengthening my family ties. Just like almost every night, I still visited Hermione and little Lily in the world of the living, but now, as I knew how to contact them in their dreams, I gladly perused this newly obtained capability of mine in order to make these visits more of a double-sided interaction. Lying besides my beautiful wife on her bed and entering her dreams from there added an extra dimension to this "happy family reunion" and I was all too happy to immerse myself in this newly found happiness.

After the first few visits, I was positively surprised to see that Hermione's dreams slowly started to fill with colours, music, emotions; a tell-tale sign of her slowly being on the mend. We talked a lot, filling in each other on the events that happened ever since our separation, we recalled happy and not-so-happy memories from our past lives; we learned to love each other again every way the realm of Dreams could make possible.

On a particularly starry, clear night, our naked bodies still sweaty from our lovemaking on the terrace of the Astronomy Tower, we just lay there, collecting our breath, our shoulders and hips touching. It was full moon and the silvery rays of the ancient celestial orb gently touched our skin, encapsulating us in an ethereal glow. Neither wanted to speak, we just enjoyed the silence and the safe thought of each other's proximity.

"Where are we going from here, my dear Harry?" I rather felt than heard Hermione's words, whispered barely above a breath.

This was a question I'd been asking myself, these past days, weeks. Unfortunately, the Shadowlands – unlike the ancient Greek - didn't have an Oracle I could turn to for help, nor could I read the future from bird guts, so I had to dismiss this riddle as an unsolvable one, at least for the time being. That sentence on my bathroom mirror was still bugging me and I still wanted to find out what it meant. Up until the night right after my death when Luna visited me for the first time in the Shadowlands I would have hexed anybody into next century for such jokes, but she opened my eyes to many things I had previously considered impossible. Yet, I didn't have high hopes, neither did I want to give one to my sweet girl.

I tried to make a face resembling a question mark, which in my current situation wasn't that hard. Obviously I succeeded, because Hermione suddenly rolled over to her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows and looked seriously into my eyes.

"I know about Luna, Harry."

Suddenly, my blood chilled down to absolute zero. _Holy shite, how am I going to explain all this to her?_ I knew it was not something either of us had set up, nor had either of us his saying in how soul bonding takes place; all this had been written in the books, at least so Luna had explained her dream to me. Yet, as it seems, this situation grew, to say the least, quite uncomfortable for the three of us, and I braced for the worst.

My angel must have felt my sudden internal turmoil because she flashed me a small smile, the kind of a smile that always managed to cheer me up, and gave a light peck on the tip of my nose, then lay her head on my chest. My hands machinally came op from my side and my fingers lost themselves in her velvety locks and she sighed in contentment.

I felt her hot breath burn my skin. "She visited me a few days ago in my dreams, just like you do." I nodded not-so-intelligently; different scenarios – most of them unpleasant and unattractive – rushing through my mind in quick succession. "Yeah, it was her who taught me the Dreamwalk. It's her I have to thank for giving me the opportunity to visit you and little Lily."

Hermione looked into my eyes again, her chin now resting on my chest, the white of her eyes eerily flashing in the darkness. "I'm sure you've properly thanked her on more than one occasion." I couldn't make out whether her voice sounded hurt, objective or was carrying a lightly ironic subtone.

Not having finished any anger management courses, I suddenly let the best-defense-is-offense policy take me over. "Not my mistake, in case you wanted to know. I didn't ask for this whole soul bonding thing to happen and most certainly didn't ask for falling in love with each other," I snapped rather unnecessarily at the very person I loved most.

My beautiful girl, however, already knew that, just like everything else I was just about to say. She knew me more than either of us would have suspected. Gently laying her palm on my cheek, she took my breath away with a sensuous kiss that made my initial anger and frustration go away in an instant. "You forget, my dear Harry, that I'm the most brilliant witch of the century and I happen to know more about soul bonding that anyone would suspect," her lips curled up into a smile against mine. "It's not the fault of either of you."

Snuggling back into my embrace, her sweet voice rocked me back to my comfort zone. "Luna's eyes were red and puffy that night and she seemed to be bursting into crying again any minute. She said she was aware that it would end our friendship, yet she owed me the truth. It took me quite some fine diplomacy to calm her down and I did have to promise her that I wouldn't be hexing her for what she would be telling me, even if I got her blatant permission to do so when she finished telling her tale. Your tale, Harry."

_So, Hermione knows everything._ By this time I suspected as much, yet somehow I didn't wanted to realize that my beautiful girl, the mother of my little Lily knew of my secret affair with nota bene one of her best friends. The bitch Fate, however, didn't want to spare me from this humiliation. I had to hear out everything, the whole story of my being an outright arse against these two angels.

"It's just good that you had already explained this Dreamwalk thingy to me," Hermione's soft, almost hypnotic voice continued, "otherwise I would have concluded that I'd gone gaga. I don't deny that that idea had cemented down its presence in my oh-so-rational mind the very first time you'd visited me in my dreams and my rational side is still screaming out its protests, but for once, I try not to listen to it."

For some unknown reason, the probability of this situation seemed to converge rapidly to zero and I didn't omit the possibility to voice my opinion. "Who are you and what have you done to Hermione Potter?" I snorted, emitting a small laugh, and after a brief, surprised silence she lost control and joined in, her angelic voice ringing far away in the complete silence of the midnight. I ran my fingers down her sides, barely touching her, and she shivered ever-so-lightly, her perfect, soft skin covered with goosebumps.

"Have I already told you what a bloody tease you are, Potter?" She tried to fake a hurt voice, without that much of success. She must have understood that, because the next second a small surge of pain cut through me and I couldn't suppress a _hiss _at the sudden feeling of my skin between her teeth.

I gently slapped at her bum, ready to swear upon all Gods that she didn't mind it for one bit as I felt her wriggling herself into my palm for more skin contact. She let out a low, satisfied moan and pressed her magnificent body tighter into me, making it extremely hard for me to concentrate not on this wonderful feeling but on our inevitable talk instead.

"So, what I was trying to say, my ever-so-handsome husband, was that we had a long nightly talk with Luna, with crackers, soft cheese and red wine, and she told me the whole story, all bits and pieces in neat chronological order. Girly talk, all the way, just two besties among themselves." Her voice didn't display any emotions, neither positive nor negative, and I didn't know whether or not it was a good sign. So I interrupted her once again, trying to lead the talk the way I wanted.

"All bits and pieces, and I'm still not hexed to Jupiter?"

Hermione chuckled. "Like I said, I can't hold the two of you responsible for something you didn't ask for and didn't actively pursue, so that hexing thing will have to wait. Of course, it felt odd at first when Luna told me about her dreams and her soul-bonding with nota bene my husband and the father of my daughter. She told me how you'd managed to accept her as she was and been there for her when everybody else was making fun of her. She told me how she'd gradually fallen in love with you, even when she knew you wouldn't be returning her feelings and how your death almost killed her as well."

Stopping briefly for a moment, she drew a deep breath. "I know, under normal circumstances it would sound weird what I'm just going to say, but then, neither your life nor mine was ever to be called normal. I felt happy for you two, Harry, when Luna, bursting out in tears again and willing to hex herself, admitted that you'd been together intimately. I hugged her to myself and cried happy tears, because I couldn't deny this small happiness from you two."

I had to admit that I would have expected whatever _other _reaction possible from Hermione, not this one. I would have never hoped for her forgiveness; I could have defended myself with the simple fact that Luna and I started dating _before _I learned the way to reconnect to my little family. However, it would have been both inappropriate and superfluous.

Suddenly, I felt wetness on my skin and I didn't have to be an Oracle to guess that she was crying, something that always broke my heart in little pieces. I hugged her close to me and we both let our emotions loose. We shed silent tears together for the life we could have had, the life we had thrown away.

"You know, even after more than a year, I still feel immensely guilty for all that happened, Harry," slowly composing herself, my girl raised her tear-stained face to meet my equally miserable self. "The thought that I had cast away our happiness by abandoning you for the second time because I wasn't strong enough and the thought that my selfishness had driven you into death was literally killing me. I don't know how I managed to keep my sanity and refrain from following you, until one night I felt little Lily's tiny feet kicking my intestines. I'd seen her many times before on ultrasound pictures, but this first palpable encounter with our little girl made me understand that I was really carrying a little piece of you, your flesh and blood, inside me and realizing this gave a completely new meaning to my miserable existence."

Dumbfounded, I listened to my girl's sweet voice, thousands of thoughts rushing through my mind, none of them pleasant. "Nonsense, Hermione. It's all my fault. I should have known that me coming after you and taking a dive into your new life would stir you up after you'd managed to build up a new, quiet existence. I shouldn't have rushed. I shouldn't have interfered."

Shrugging, I rolled her off me and turned away from her, deeply ashamed, but a gentle, yet forceful hand made me turn back. "Harry, love, we can't change the past, no matter how much we'd love to. There's no return to what we'd lost."

_Tell me something I don't know, baby._

Her hazel eyes came very close to mine, and she repeated her initial question again. "Where are we going from here, my dear Harry? Obviously I can't and won't forbid you to see Luna." Yet, answering this seemingly simple question didn't become easier for me. On the contrary.

"Hermione, I love you and little Lily more than I can explain. If you look into my heart, you will know that I'm telling the truth."

"Do you love Luna?" There was no hurt in her voice, as far as I could tell, a simple, objective question requiring a simple, objective answer.

Still, I had to think over it, twice, slightly ashamed. "I do feel something for her that goes beyond the limits of being simply good friends with her. At the same time, I feel guilty for not being able to love her back and feel like a complete arse for abusing our friendship."

Hermione pleasantly cackled. "You mean this friends-with-benefits thingy between you and her?"

Even in my miserable mental state, I had to laugh. "I'm really thankful to you, baby, for not calling things by their names. I was actually expecting to hear 'shag buddies' or something similar, maybe even worse, but your version of things sounds much, much better." I turned, all of a sudden, dead serious. "I will call this off with her, Hermione. I can't do this to her, not any more. It's just not fair to her, and, even you're trying to convince me of the contrary, to you as well. You are the one I love with all of my heart."

"Are you sure you won't be hurting her?"

I flinched. "Most probably, yes, but I prefer to choose for the lesser of the two evils. She will come around, eventually, and she will understand. Besides, she gave me the impression that she had foreseen all this and is at peace with it."

I crushed my lips on hers, our bodies hungrily drawn together by an unseen force of magnetism. I felt desire wash over me as I roamed my hands across her sides, her back, her bum, searching for more skin contact, while our tongues battled a fierce battle with no losers and no winners. Suddenly, Hermione suppressed a small shriek and froze, raising her head.

A silver doe stood in her room, patiently waiting, holding a small piece of parchment in her mouth. Before I could even move, Hermione already rolled off me, instinctively recognizing Luna's new Patronus form and softly petted the ethereal animal on her head. The doe laid the parchment into her waiting palm, then dissolved through Time and Space, gallopping across the wall of the bedroom. Hermione quickly unrolled the parchment and read the few words written on it, then gave it to me, her face suddenly ashen.

"Harry... it's from Luna..."


End file.
